Drinking time with old friends usually includes a back catalog of stories we’ve all heard before.
Last night, for example, the tale of how one of my pals and I almost burnt down an entire Boy Scout camp (it wasn’t our fault as much as it was the scoutmaster’s pyromaniac son) was brought up.
Or how one the friend’s family seems to think some of the other guys built a new cabin one time (they didn’t). Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned our BSA days at all, but my point is this: we’ve heard it all before.
At least that’s what I thought.
My buddy was regaling us with an episode that occurred while he was in Malaysia. Apparently, he had rented a dirt bike and was traveling around with his girl at that time (this story was brought up most likely because his girl of this time wasn’t present). They were planning on taking a shortcut up a dirt path on a hill, but at the top, they encountered a chainlink fence.
On his side of the fence, a dumpster full of reeking trash.
On the opposite side – a cadre of monitor lizards clawing at the fence, hissing, and shaking it. I imagined something like a zombie movie. He said rather than riding the bike in a small circle, he stood up (with his girl hanging around his neck the entire time), grabbed the end of the bike, and spun in his spot. He sped so fast down the hill he almost popped at wheelie at take-off.
Okay, it’s not a classic story, but considering what’s happened in Indonesia with the Komodo dragons, it kind of freaked me out. Also… I was drunk, so I kind of pictured it something like this: