This past weekend grannies 1 and 2 left nursing home life behind for a night of debauchery and arsenic filled liquor buckets at the Bermuda triangle of the party life in Thailand, Koh Phi Phi. This sudden decision occurred Friday night when we assembled a solid squad for the festivities to this special place. Most of us had never experienced the debauchery that PhiPhi offers, and I for one did not know what to expect. Some of us ‘took a vacation from our everyday vacation’ while others enjoyed vacation to the third degree.
Ironically, this particular weekend falls during our annual Key Weird spring break action. Since the adult world has no “spring break” and most of my friends were stuck at a desk silently protesting adult life via neon tanks beneath business casual attire, I took one for the team and decided to re-live the weirdness that ensues once one steps foot onto Duval Street.
We replaced Fat Tuesdays mugs with infamous PhiPhi buckets, into which they pour an entire pint of Thai whiskey/battery acid. At one point I realize everyone had their personal buckets, yet each individually attempted to slow the descent into final inebriation by coaxing the surrounding bucketers into helping to empty their own bucket.
Somewhere between painting neon trees, crushing dance floors and eating the worst pad thai this country has to offer, Lindser and I found time to Houdini our way out of sight and into a seedy bar where we obtained new middle aged male companions. After being rescued from this establishment, we made it back to the boat shaped backpacker haven and into the bunkbed sanctuary set in a labyrinth of offensively wonderful wall art in which people could find themselves sucked into for centuries to come.
Day antics and night shenanigans blurred together, but thankfully someone had my camera to document forty-seven pictures of us vehemently sucking down liquor buckets. I’d say in 24 hours PhiPhi damaged my soul just as much as it damaged my liver. Such a beautiful soul-eater, that neverland island.