Last night, I had a date with two very nice young women. Westerners. It was nice to find people who share my values. It didn’t go anywhere; I was shy about inviting myself back to their place, and I think they were, too.
But one of them told me about a British guy they met at their last guest house, who had been there for three weeks and didn’t feel the motivation to go on. She later found out, she said, that he was toking up every night. Heavily.
“Yeah, no wonder he doesn’t feel the motivation to go on,” she said. “And it’s not like he meets people. He mostly just stays in his room and comes out to eat.”
“Well, maybe he needs to get it out of his system,” I said.
“–And you know that back home,” she continued, “when people talk about him, they say, ‘Oh, John is so daring! He just picked up and went to Cambodia, and he’s been there almost a month now!’”
