You Deserve a Drink: Boozy Misadventures and Tales of Debauchery by Mamrie Hart

Author:Mamrie Hart [Hart, Mamrie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Non-Fiction, Humour, Biography, Writing, Adult
ISBN: 9780142181676
Amazon: 0142181676
Barnesnoble: 0142181676
Goodreads: 23281915
Publisher: Plume
Published: 2015-05-25T23:00:00+00:00

Here we are earlier in our trip about to attend a small village’s Full Moon Festival. We had made friends with a local named Mangde (pictured), and his sisters dressed us up in their traditional garb. I put on a smile but, Lord knows, I was super uncomfortable with my own full moon . . . my butt.

We hit the river with a bang. Literally. It was the last month of the dry season in Bali and the water level was super low. This posed two problems. One, this whole excursion was going to take a lot longer than we had expected, and two, the river was gonna be bumpy. As soon as the raft hit the water, I felt like I was being punched in the colon.

I asked our instructor about how long the trip would be. He confidently and politely replied, “Boom boom.”

Yes, boom boom. No, he wasn’t speaking in Black Eyed Peas lyrics. This was how he guided us. “Boom boom” roughly translated to “Hold on to your tits, girls, we’re about to hit a boulder.” I didn’t want to be a negative Nancy and ruin the experience for my friends, so after about a half hour of almost boom-booming in my shorts, I decided to take action.

I dug deep into my river experience of tubing and began instructing everyone on our raft. I yelled at them to paddle right! I yelled at them to paddle left! I yelled at them because I was about to defecate in a rubber boat! The urgency of my bowels transformed me into an Olympic coxswain.*

The guide couldn’t tell me how far away from the end we were, but he didn’t need to. My ass could tell. Have you ever watched someone on the beach with a metal detector? The closer it gets to metal, the more intense the beeping becomes. That was my ass getting closer to a bathroom.

We finally reached the end of the river and I straight-up Usain Bolted to the bathroom. I won’t go into detail about the wonders of what occurred in those following five minutes. (A girl’s got to keep a little mystery, right? Said me, never.) But I can say that shit was orgasmic. If I’d had a cigarette I would have immediately lit it, then high-fived myself. When I had fully deflated and regained composure, I strutted out of that bathroom like a boy after his first blow job. Part of me expected people to be applauding and lifting me up on their shoulders. Although that still would have been a risky move, considering the situation.

Once I got over the hump of the dump, my body went back to regularly scheduled digestion. I felt like a human! I could eat without being in pain again! I could actually get drunk again! (Apparently, when you have a Sizzler buffet’s worth of food just waiting to exit your body, it’s hard to catch a buzz.) Finally, I could enjoy Bali without feeling terrible. All I wanted to do that last week was be beachside in a bikini, piña colada in hand.

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