Because I'm just some random dude who lives in the middle of nowhere...
I didn't know anything about the place.
I'm sure I've seen it in movies. Most likely enjoyed some travel videos shot on location in Thailand as well. I have these strange visions of nice trees, maybe some monkeys, waterfalls, and scantily clad women pushing their wet hair back in slow motion with both hands.
That could be anywhere though, so I decided to do some research:
The Death Penalty!
Risk my life just to attend Steemfest?
Because of what happened last year, I knew I'd be going solo.
Jared, my hired muscle, and the only guy I know who has experience shoving footballs filled with cocaine along with other handy items up the rectum, would be a no-show.
I probably spent about three days, staring at that football, wondering how the hell he managed to fit that up his ass every time we went somewhere.
Even the golf balls were making me nervous.
I tried to call him but his wife intercepted and reminded me about the restraining order she had him place on me. We haven't even been able to be bros for almost a year...
So it's over.
And it's all me now.
The proverbial one-man band.
I thought I could do this.
I figured if they're going to try to kill me, I better learn how to fight.
Muay Thai seemed rather fitting. Like fighting fire, with fire.
This discipline is known as the "art of eight limbs" as it is characterized by the combined use of fists, elbows, knees, and shins.
I've seen this stuff before in the octagon and like many people who watch MMA, you think you can do it. Plus it says "art" and I'm an artist. All of the pieces of this whimsical puzzle of future self-preservation were beginning to snap together like bonobos.
It looks easy enough!
But this wasn't easy.
Some dude named Larry or Jerry something was offering an online course. I dished out hundreds before I realized this dude did not know a damn thing about Muay Thai. Who does Muay Thai in the nude and why are these stretching exercises meant to train your body to bend into positions that place your head between your legs so important?
I honestly don't see how falling down on the ground and attempting to suck myself off is supposed to protect me.
I looked all over the internet and none of the other tidbits of information even mentioned this technique.
Needless to say, I was one disgruntled student and now I'm out hundreds of dollars. All that does is increase the size of the football I'm already nervous about jamming up my ass.
But I was not going to miss Steemfest this year!
So I posted an ad on Craigslist.
A personal trainer responded within hours.
Drove all the way to Winnipeg to meet this man. Decided to arrive a day early so I could get settled in at one of the overpriced hotels downtown. Spent the first hour there emptying the tiny bottles of vodka and tequila I found in the fridge. Once the buzz was good enough, I filled those bottles up with water, then headed down to the pool area to see if they had pinball.
Those crooks wanted me to pay two dollars for five balls. All I could see is that football getting bigger and bigger but damn, I love pinball.
Three beers and forty bucks later I was finally ready to go back to my room so I could call room service then demand they come investigate my fridge and explain why these liquor bottles are full of water.
I pay top dollar and you people are trying to poison me with tainted water! > What is the meaning of this!
I spent the rest of the night emptying my fully stocked fridge and watching rented porno with the volume cranked up so people couldn't hear my screams as I practiced Muay Thai.
There's a knock at the door.
I didn't know where the hell I was.
The room was trashed. Holes in the walls. Pieces of lamp, everywhere.
I looked at the ceiling. Somebody wrote, "Chase your dreams," using soggy wads of toilet paper, directly above my head. As I was staring at this cryptic message, trying to figure things out, a huge glop of this disgusting material dropped down and hit me on the forehead. It was cold and wet. I jumped out of bed, wiped it off, then noticed the entire bed and most of the furniture was covered in this same mysterious white goo.
It was everywhere.
Knock knock knock!
I looked through the peephole and could only see the top of a woman's head. I told her hair to come back in two hours. She obliged.
I was supposed to be at the personal trainer's place at noon. I was late.
A quick shower while the coffee makes itself was the plan. There was more of this soggy toilet paper stuff all over the bathroom. It was clogging the drain, I didn't care. Finally I got out of there, couldn't remember where I parked. Wandered around the parking lot, finally found my car, the remote didn't work so I used the key. The key didn't work. That's when I noticed it was a car like miine but not mine. Fund my real car, drove aimlessly to the first gas station I could find, then sent the personal trainer a text:
I'm lost! Can't find the place.
He said his wife would meet me and I could follow her.
Tanya seemed like a really nice chick but the four dogs sitting in the back wouldn't let me get close enough to shake her hand.
I followed for a good half hour. She took an odd route. Many side streets and back lanes. Finally she stops in a lane next to a garage and points for me to drive inside. I thought, well that's nice of them to let me use the garage while I'm here.
Luca was there waiting, seemed like a nice dude. Shook my hand, firm grip, not clammy, so that was cool. Off to the basement we go.
"Are you ready for your first lesson," he asked, with his voice, that sounded like that of a former steroid abuser. Then I saw his boobs and I couldn't believe it when he showed me a sign that said, "These are the rules of fight club."
1) No outside shoes or jewelry.
2) No food or drink.
3) No phones or photography.
He gave me a cool bin with my name on it for my personal effects.
He opened the door, I went inside.
The door closed behind me and within seconds I heard several locks engage. The room was dark until a traffic light lit up with the colors green, red, and yellow. They all flashed and then would light individually. I was confused and wondered if the light was trying to communicate with me. It stopped at red. The entire room remained red. This song started playing:
I spent four months in that red room.
That song played the entire time.
All I ate was peanut butter on crackers that would fall from a vent above me. I drank from the toilet.
The first days I'd just sit wondering if this was part of the training. I remembered how Mr. Miyagi made the karate kid do all kinds of weird shit like wax off so I assumed Luca was simply preparing my body and mind to deal with stressful situations.
After about a month, I gave up thinking.
Spent most of the time laying on my back, on the floor, waiting for the crackers to fall from what I called the sky. I caught a couple with my mouth.
I don't even know why they did that to me.
You'd think being in a situation like this would eventually lead to being raped up the ass, torture, murder, or a combination of all three.
Nope. Just me. The red room. That damn song. Crackers falling from the sky.
I don't get it!
And finally, after four months, I got sick of peanut butter.
I raged and did my best Muay Thai kick ever and broke that damn red light. That felt good and within minutes I could hear the door locks, then the door opened.
I came out of the darkness with another leaping Muay Thai kick and put that damn Luca on his ass. He didn't even know Muay Thai and I could tell because when I went to bend his head down and lock it between his legs, he didn't even know how to defend that move!
I waxed that motherfucker right off and got outta there!
Those dogs chased me up to the outside fence I leaped like a ninja while I could hear Tanya yelling, "Tulip! Get back here, Tulip!"
I yelled, "That's a stupid name," and just kept running.
The police thought I was on meth when they confronted me.
Naked, had cracker crumbs in my beard and body hair, dried peanut butter all over my face.
I told them everything once I calmed down and they told me about the warrant I had for my arrest. Apparently those people at the hotel weren't impressed with me after — according to them — I ditched without paying and destroyed the room.
I still don't remember how that room got trashed and they wouldn't let me off the hook because that happened before I was kept in a dungeon for four months, so that doesn't count.
So now you know why I was gone. After paying all of these fines, legal fees, the therapists — I'm down 10k, again, and I will not be going to Steemfest this year.