Mr Mark Is A Very Lucky Man“Yes Mr Mark, you very lucky man,” Rosita the Balinese maid giggled as Mr Mark finally made it to the breakfast table. “You have beautiful wife and you have handsome boyfriend.”
Poor Mark was extremely confused at the bold statement. Attempting to drink one’s own bodyweight in alcohol the night before didn’t really help. His throbbing skull was a major handicap. He desperately needed to clear his head and confront this confusion front and centre.
Mark loved a cold beer, especially when catching up with an old mate he hadn’t seen for a while. He was well aware that too much ale would make you stout and too much stout would make you ail, but quite often he threw caution to the wind.
The two friends knocked back Bintangs and arak like there was no tomorrow. Mark’s wife knew she was well out of her league, so she leisurely sipped on one colourful cocktail after another, listening to the wild stories and hysterical anecdotes of the two boys.
The night rolled on swimmingly as stories ranged from past surfing trips to old party times and even their occasional trip to the fruity Taxi Club in Darlinghurst. It was well past midnight when the party of three drunkenly stumbled back to the bungalow.
The wife ran out of steam and happily went to bed, alone, but the two boys continued on their junket and even managed a nightcap: half a bottle of duty free vodka. In their awful drunken state, the friend was offered the upstairs guest room and stayed for the night.
Poor Mark didn’t even make it back to his room. He ended up crashing out in the guest room as well, somewhere between sitting in the small lounge chair and lying face down on the timber floor. The two friends had given it a damn good nudge.
Early the next morning, the friend was up with the screeching roosters. In his drunken haze he remembered he had an important meeting and was running very late. He grabbed his clothes from the floor and bolted downstairs. Wearing only a pair of undies and with his clothes stuffed under his arm, he flew past Rosita in the kitchen like a runaway tram. Rosita smiled at the fast moving friend and snickered to herself. She then snuck a look upstairs to discover Mark passed out in the spare room. He too was only wearing a pair of briefs.
Two hours’ later, Mark surfaced. He was extremely dishevelled as he shared breakfast with his wife. The entire time Rosita was smiling and laughing at him.
“Rosita, please tell me the joke. Why do you laugh so much?” Mark’s head ached as he spoke.
“Mr Mark very lucky man. I see this morning your friend,” the maid in the private Balinese bungalow blushed. “You have beautiful wife and you have very handsome boyfriend.”
Slowly the penny dropped as Rosita explained what she had seen. With her limited English, attempting to explain to her that he didn’t bat for both sides was a tough task, and with the wife’s raucous and well-directed laughter adding to the mix, explaining the misunderstanding was like getting teeth pulled.
The rest of the morning was just plain hard work, but Mark copped it well, fully aware that he could only feel better as the day wore on.