Game, Set, Cash! by Brad Hutchins

Author:Brad Hutchins
Language: eng, eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Inc.
Published: 2014-04-13T16:00:00+00:00

14

BANGKOK MADNESS

I come to in a bundle of cosy white linen, wishing my head felt as soft and fluffy. It’s pounding like a sledgehammer. I’m in Bangkok, I remember. I say ‘come to’ because it’s not just waking up; it’s that hazy, disorientating process you go through when you’re in a new location and your brain is fighting off a lack of sleep and an inundation of alcohol. Yeah, I’m still drunk. It’s 11.45 a.m. Oh shit! I jump up in bed, realising I start work at noon. It’s Monday morning and I need to be down at the tennis to kick off the week at the PTT Thailand Open. This means getting to the venue, collecting tickets and finding a suitable, discreet spot to trade from, all in the space of fifteen minutes. Then I look across to see an empty bed next to me. Mono didn’t come home last night. Ultimately, I assume this is good news for him, but it is Bangkok and he could either be lost, dead, kidnapped or on his way home after getting laid. I’m hoping it’s the latter.

The venue is close, I know that much. So I run to the bathroom for a power shower then make contact with the back end. Nads is online, and I’m hoping he’s in a good mood so he’s less likely to flip his shit at us for running late.

Me: NADS! HOLY FUCK I’M STILL SHITFACED! I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE MONO IS! HE’S NOT BACK AT THE HOTEL!

Nads: Oh dear god.

Me: I’m going to head down now and try to get shit sorted, hopefully get on court in time for play.

Nads: Godspeed, I’ll try calling Mono.

I run down to the lobby and enquire about transportation to the tennis venue. A courtesy golf cart rolls into the drive and invites me on. This is a new one! I’m enjoying the ride when, about a minute later, we pull up outside the venue. Oh. Now I feel like a dick – I could easily have walked! No time to complain, though. I thank the driver and run off to the ticket booth. The language barrier is a small issue but our order form has the necessary details and after a few minutes I’m in possession of our tickets for the week.

Still no sign of Mono, though. I relay this to Nads, who is slightly bothered, but I’m sensing more of a feeling of pride and amusement from him. Nads loves Thailand and has been egging us on with various suggestions and tips; I’m sure he expected nothing less this morning. My phone rings. Mono is alive and at the venue.

‘Where the fuck are you, dude?’ I ask.

‘Um, j-just out the front of some, oh, I don’t know, mate. I’m near some stairs,’ he replies. His voice is unsteady and indicative of self-imposed suffering.

I laugh. It’s been a big night for the lad. I look up and see him standing in the middle of the walkway wearing the same clothes he had on last night.

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