Pinko had been on the Spirit for 4 months and although the bar was his favorite place onboard he got completely and utterly shitfaced when he paid off at Rio. Fortunately we get paid into our bank accounts these days and we don’t have 4 months worth of hard earned ( not hard earned in Pinkos case) moolah in the fist while charging down the gangway after having thrown the kitbag in front of us. Pinko was shit showered and shaved, in record time and had downed his fourth cocktail when we met up in the hotel bar. Being English he was challenging all “paddys and sweatys (sweaty sock, jock)” to see who could drink the most alcohol, he won of course and really helped England in her attempt to rid the world of the yob image.
In Rio you can’t just go to any bar and order a drink and expect to be left to your own devices, any jolly jack worth his salt knows this and Pinko probably did too but he was out of his face so he did what he wanted anyway, he managed to find a friend on the way or hooker in realspeak. His next recollections are the blue flashing lights and smoke and screaming and being dragged naked into an ambulance.
He later discovered that while on autopilot his friend had taken them back to her place, which turns out was some class of hotel brothel, she was also worse for wear and they fell asleep. Pinko fell asleep while smoking a cig, and the matress went on fire.
He was charged with arson and attempted murder, and deported rapidly back to Blighty. On arrival at Heathrow he was arrested again, but this time for taking his clothes off on the plane and trying to urinate on the air hostess because she refused him more drink, good job this all happened to Pinko back in ‘97, pre 9/11. Still it kept us entertained for a few evenings in the bar on the Spirit when we joined 3 months later. (the Spirit and Pinko are not the real names of the ship and person in question, everything else is true)
More adventures from Pinko soon……..
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