Dave For Night

My Dear Princess and Dear Friends,

Do you see what I did with today's title? Do you? Do you though? It is for all you Nouvelle Vague fans and means I am very very clever. 

I'll give you a moment to applaud.

This is Dave, waiting for me to arrive home from the pub last night. I like how cats at night transform from kitties to WILD HUNTERS. Look at him, like a coiled spring he is, ready to POUNCE on a packet of chicken and salmon treaty biscuits.

I went to the pub because Tiger, Mo and I have kinda sorta decided that Thursday could be "pub day" if we are all in town and can be bothered. I like plans like that. There's a "get out of pub free" attached to it, simply by activating the "can't be arsed" clause.

But yesterday we COULD all be very arsed indeed and so went to The Duke. It's an okay pub. It's a bit brightly lit and therefore nothing like what people in Edinburgh would consider pubworthy. You'd probably more call it a restaurant with beers. But it's fine. I ordered Korean sticky chicken and pork belly sliders and we snacked on those while drinking and telling tall tales. 

Mo has the best tallest tales because he has been everywhere. I mean it. Just everywhere. As a surveyor he's worked in Kazakhstan, Saudi, Brazil, Libya... and as a traveller he's been all over the place. Last night he was telling us about Cambodia, Laos and Thailand. 

In Thailand he met a monk who was an English guy. Apparently he was a drugs and party animal who woke up one morning with two women in his bed and decided to change his life and become a Buddhist*. 

This monk invited Mo to spend time with him in a remote part of Thailand and he had the best time in a part of the country where no-one spoke English and the pair had to live off alms**. 

The thing about all of Mo's stories is that he is so matter-of-fact. "Oh yes," he'll say. "That was from the time I was begging in Eastern Thailand." 

After three or four beers and more stories, Tiger and I caught the train to Paraparaumu and chatted some more. He is genuinely one of the nicest, kindest, funniest people I have met and I am so incredibly grateful his friendship was basically just PLONKED on me about four years ago. 

He was telling me about some of his short stories and I hope he'll share them with me soon. So the hour long trip flew by and the next thing I knew I was home with Caro eating KFC. Which is all I was fit for after that.

But seriously. A MONK? 

S.

* It seems a bit extreme if you ask me, but maybe his willy was worn down to a nub or something.

** I'm not entirely sure what "alms" consist of, but I'm guessing there's a fair amount of lentils involved.