It was a good few weeks into the trip, in a brief sojourn in Nha Trang, that talk finally turned to the organising of the trip; of future plans and specific things that certain members of the company actually hoped to achieve or see or do on their voyage of self-discovery.
It wasn't a prolonged conversation, truth be told, but one thing that was universally agreed upon was that getting scuba diving licenses in Thailand would be a splendid idea, and that was going to mean a mandatory pit-stop of about a week on the island of Koh Tao.
"So, that at least is agreed on?" Will asked. "I can put that in the diary?"
"Yeah, keen," Charlie said.
"Can't dance, never could sing, might as well learn to dive," said Frenchy.
"Keen," Hugo said.
"Keen as, bro," said Dang.
"I'm keen to go, but I'm not going to be diving, gentlemen," said Golem.
"There's always one," said Will, rolling his eyes.
"Don't you chafe to know what life is like under the sea, Golem?" asked Charlie. "To see the noble... scallop and... parrotfish in all their natural splendour?"
"I've seen David Attenborough," came the sour reply.
"Nah, but seriously, bro, why aren't you keen? It'll be fun," said Dang.
"I bloody well told you!" Golem said.
"Told us what?" said Dang, puzzled.
Golem let out a weary breath, clearly displeased that this item of conversation was surfacing again. "I told you," he said, running a hand through his hair, "when we were at the Top Banana."
There was as thoughtful a silence as you could possibly wish to hear––or not hear.
"When we were drinking those Red Bull and vodka buckets? Dang was doing his sleeping with his eyes open trick?" Golem prompted.
Charlie thought he could hear the sound of memories being quickly thumbed through.
"Just fuckin' tell us what the problem is, will ya, man?" Frenchy said exasperatedly.
Golem gave another great sigh that seemed to echo up from the depths of a soul that knew it was about to get some stick.
"'Cause of my hernia," he said.
"Hernia?" Hugo asked, and then voiced the question that was surely tickling the vocal cords of the group as a whole. "How in the hell did you manage to give yourself a hernia? I've always thought it was a point of pride with you that you never picked up anything heavier than a glass or a pizza box."
"Never mind how he got it," said Will, "why have we never seen it is what I want to know?"
"Good point, that man," Charlie said.
Then, there was a barrage of questions.
"Yeah, why haven't you been sharing your hernia, Golem?"
"Can we just have a quick look, bro?"
"How'd you do it?"
"How did he do it?"
"Does it hurt?"
"What does it look like?"
"How does it stop you diving?"
"How does it stop you diving, bro?" Dang asked, managing to make himself heard over the general hubbub.
YOU ARE READING
Sex, Drugs & No Idea
ChickLitUnexpected threesomes. Fighting midgets. Wrecking bathrooms. It isn't our grief that sets us apart, it is the manner in which we deal with it. Charlie Green is a mess. After surviving an accident that claimed the life of his partner and being sacked...
