A and E.

So when you’ve just had what felt like a really good first interview for a job you definitely want. And you’re just about ready to go and prepare your self for your next interview before popping off to the grand opening of a new shop that you’re contracted to be covering for the magazine.

The last thing you want is to be injured whilst sat on the back of a motorbike whose driver you’re paying to take you home.

That’s what happened to me today.

Bad news eh.

Long short: 6 stitches and no dancing for at least 4 weeks.

Here are the details.

Basically I know the guy. He works part time as local security liaison for the lakeside area. He’s also a moto-driver. Basically his duties as a security liaison involve holding a walkie-talkie and trying to get the bar-owners to give him free beer. If he manages to successfully negotiate the beer deal he uses the walkie-talkie to call other security liaisons and military police to inform them of which bar’s giving it out.
His duties as a moto-driver include wearing a helmet and charging the equivalent of a day’s wages for a 5-minute lift.

Anyway I get on his bike and he pulls off fast.
I shout “No! Ot Lune-Lune” (not fast-fast)
He laughs and tries to weave through the stationary traffic parked up the alleyway that acts as a main-road for the lakeside.
As he does he smashes my leg into a parked tuk-tuk.
I’ve literally been on the bike for about 35 seconds at this point.
So I’m all riving in pain and he’s still laughing.
2 minutes later we stop at the place where I’m staying and I roll up my trousers to see the damage.
He looks worried and tells me to get back on his bike.
He takes me to a chemist.
The chemist looks at my leg and tells him to take me to hospital.
We leave.
40 seconds down the road we turn back around because he left his helmet in the chemist.
We arrive at what looks like an abandoned hospital and some Bong on the gate sends us round the back.
The sign above the door we walk through says optical specialist.
Minutes later I’m lying on a fold out bed in a small dusty cell of a back room. 3 Khmer nurses are examining my wound.
Some talking takes place between them and him and eventually he turns to me with the information that it’ll cost US$15 and as soon as we pay they’ll start.

I tell him he needs to get his money out and he gives it “oooh, me no have money.”
A phonecall or 2 later and I’ve managed (with the help of Nam’s girlfriend Hoi) to get an 8 person lakeside landing party into the hospital to sort this shit out.

Upon the arrival of team lakeside the nurses start stitching. It felt/looked more like they were improvising based on something they'd seen on animal hospital. Oh and only one of them was wearing gloves or as far as I could tell had washed their hands.

In the end his mum fronts the charge (now $10) and then they all leave.

Later I receive a phonecall from Nam who reckons everyone in the area thinks it was my fault because he’s told them I had my legs hanging out the sides like I’ve never been on a moto before.
He’s also telling them I told him to go quickly.

Now the worst thing about this whole situation is that I was actually on my way to another job interview for a positon as a breakdance teacher starting Jan 25th. $160 a week.
Unfortunately I now can’t do that now and even though I think I got the other Job it don’t actually start till March.

So bad news for me eh.
On the up side chicks dig scars and I got a load of cool meds to ingest for the next few days.

So every cloud eh