November 8th 1:12pm - Rob Awesome

Mumbai: Day One: The city was on a beer drought and served no alcohol.
Mumbai: Day Two: Bollywood, and we were told by a restaurant as well as by a bar that playing card games in public is illegal.
Mumbai: Day Three: We left.
By our arrival in Goa, the Kiwi was on his second Bolivian Marching Powder binge in sixty hours. He hadn't slept in forty hours.
As he referred to himself as Rob Awesome, he decreed that the day necessitated getting Rob Awesome in henna across his deltoids.
The Brits migrated to a restaurant for beer and lunch. I read and supervised the henna headway. Rob Awesome lay on his stomach, arms at his sides, while an Indian man administered the henna. Rob Awesome compelled me to cater cigarettes to his mouth. I commanded inhale, he inhaled. The Indian man's eyes told me he thought this as mystifying as my dad motorboating a transvestite in a restaurant on my twenty-first birthday. Henna Man finished. Rob Awesome's body gyrated with gorilla snores. I woke him up.
"Hey, I'm heading up to the restaurant. You want anything?"
"Gagurrr."
"Sweet. I'll get right on that. Don't roll over though, alright?"
"Grmph."
"Right. Just don't roll over. You hear me? DO NOT ROLL OVER. The henna won't be dry for another twenty minutes."
"GGmmmphy."
"Yep, exactly. Just don't roll over. You CANNOT roll over. You'll ruin the henna."
"Gphmph."
I returned thirty minutes later with the Brits.
Rob Awesome had rolled over.