Cambodia Underground

Finding myself on a old hospital bed in the corner of a stale room with mono-tone gray paint peeling off the walls, I stare at the iv bag as it obediently deliver the antidote, drip by drip, to the food that had poisoned me only a few hours ago. I should have known, “it must have been that damn meat, sitting out in the heat for hours” I say, chastising myself. But, in reality, it could have been any of the one things that I had eaten, ignoring the ‘you should know better’ voice as I raised the tall plastic cup to my lips, flies scattering between the rim of the chalice and the bridge of my nose, taking a sip…

As you may know, I’m not a tourist type of guy. Yes, I went to Angkor Way and Yes, it was (slightly) interesting but it was was not my trip, if you know what I mean. It was dictated by the banging hammers of the construction workers, the children swarming around me looking to sell their wares, and the hoards of tourists standing in reverence for the tree that had been seen in the Tomb Raider movie. The experience was manufactured BUT one thing I did have to my advantage was my spandex pants and 120 beats per minute reverberating off my eardrums…

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