Indo Whore.
Surfing seems to be an occupation that puts you in situations that you would never find yourself in normal life. Dangerous, stupid, funny or absurd, surfing seems to take you to places both physically and mentally different. Or just plain mental.
Having said that, this story was sent to me by south devon surfer who, surprisingly, wished to remain anonymous. There is alway someone who takes it too far...
"Jesus loves you.” The final words said to me by the missionary I met on the bus into a sticky Sumatran port town which, after the sins I was to commit here, was very hard to believe. Harry introduced himself shortly after I got off the bus; he was your typical Indonesian tout and said he’d help me find a cargo boat out to some mystery islands that I was keen to reach. I checked into a hotel and prepared for a few days lounging around.
On the afternoon of the second day Harry turned up with the good news that he’d found me a boat that was leaving in the morning and did I want to go for a beer to celebrate? Over the course of a few cold Bingtangs the conversation predictably turned to girls and Harry told me about a disco on the edge of town where there were “Always lots of girls”, one beer later and we were on our way. Walking into the ‘disco’ it became obvious that not only was it a straight-out brothel, but it was the seediest one I’d ever been into, (I don’t make a habit of it, but you tend to find yourself in these positions when you’re off in strange lands!). I quickly found myself with an enthusiastic harem of very young girls, all of whom, for just a few dollars, would satisfy my increasingly desperate needs.
Proud of myself I resisted, after all these were not the cleanest looking girls I’d ever seen, but Harry wasn’t to be put off and picked himself one of the prettier, (and younger), girls, paid the madam and off we went back into town. In the taxi the girl announced that she wasn’t going to sleep with Harry, who obviously became a little annoyed. When we reached our hotel the atmosphere turned nasty and Harry started to push the girl around, I did my best to ignore it and started up the stairs to bed. The girl was now in tears with Harry punching her, so I felt I had no choice but to intervene, after much pleading I got the situation under control with the promise that I’d give Harry the money he’d spent on her and pay for a separate room for her for the night. Even then Harry would only agree if I promised not to sleep with her.
After sorting everything out with the bewildered receptionist I tried to go off to bed, unfortunately somewhere along the line I’d lost my room key, back to the reception I go in search of spare keys, to be told there wouldn’t be any until the hotel owner arrived the next morning. I tried to get another room, but they were all taken. Well, I wasn’t going to sleep on the floor, so I tiptoed past Harry’s room and over to the girl's room, where full of the best intentions, I went to sleep.
Several hours later I wake up with the realisation that there was actually a girl in bed beside me. Groggily, I figured that she must be after something, so I clambered on top of her only to be somewhat surprised when she shoved me off her again. Not caring much I went back to sleep, but a few minutes later I woke up again and had another more successful attempt, I mean, I had been her knight in shining armour, surely she owed it to me.
The next morning Harry came round at first light to bash on the door, demand money from the girl and threaten to kill me. It was, I figured, time for me to leave town. Firstly though I had to deal with the girl who was now insisting that I pay her for services rendered. Feeling that I’d already done enough for her and that it was her fault that I was about to be killed by Harry and his mates, I pretended that I didn’t know what she was talking about, and instead just gave her the bus fare home. Then I ran off down to the port to hide on the boat.
After a few hours it became clear that we weren’t leaving in a hurry so I crept back into town and off to a different hotel. I was only a hundred metres away from the hotel, when I heard shouting behind me, turning around I saw a group of girls rushing towards me with fire in their eyes. I raced off down the street and into the hotel lobby hotly pursued by the girls. The startled looks on the faces of the receptionists, as I was chased into the lobby by a group of mad prostitutes is one I’ll never forget. With half the town now braying for my blood I hid away in the back of the hotel, where I fell into conversation with a local guy, subtly I asked him about the brothels around town and wasn’t surprised to learn that he wouldn’t go near a prostitute in this town.
“They’re all riddled in disease”, he cheerfully announced.
I thought back to the lack of protection the night before and my false smile became even more strained. I explained to him that I had to reach a friend very urgently on some outer islands, did he have any ideas for getting there? Well to cut a long story short he knew a boat owner, whom if I paid ten times the normal price would take me right away - the money was out of my wallet quicker than you can say “The Clap”.
One hour later I’m sat on the boat, pulling away from port when I hear angry shouting from the port gates, looking up I see Harry and the hotel owner yelling and calling me back and I remember that in my haste to leave I hadn’t even paid for my room! Jesus loves me indeed!
By a Mysterious and Well-Travelled South Devon Surfer.
(I bet everyone thinks this is by me now. It's not...Jon.)
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