Back to Laura’s Room, the cure for herpes is the last thing on my mind. The room is small and comfy, and air conditioned, an extravagance that I couldn’t afford at the time. The luminosity of the room is warm and soft as it’s 10 PM, and dark outside. Each of us makes his own cocktails out of vodka and apple juice, and as we all get a bit tipsy, we start playing a game…
-I have never been arrested, Laura says.
Per the rules of the game, I take a sip from my glass, because I have been arrested before.
-I have never been so drunk that I blacked out, I say.
Sam and Laura take a sip from their glasses.
-You don’t drink a lot do you, Laura asks.
-Not really, bad things happen when I drink, I answer.
I have never had, or thought I had an STD, Sam says.
I take a sip from my glass, Laura and Sam don’t.
-OMG Dave!! What was it? Laura says worriedly.
-I’m not telling you, I answer nonchalantly.
I was being honest. I didn’t care. I was happy (and drunk).





Why would I want the cure for herpes? I was walking down the corridor of what looked like a luxurious hotel. Everything was new: nicely designed carpets, golden elevators, crystal clear windows – and the view: from the 22nd floor Bangkok seemed tiny. In Canada health care is free, but you do not see deluxe hospitals like those. I was a Canadian teaching English in Thailand, a Canadian with herpes.