Molotov Cocktail

A word of advice for if you’re ever travelling out of the country: make sure your travelling companions have a decent picture of you looking presentable. A picture of you shit-faced, waving a drink around right before you set yourself on fire is not going to make finding you in the hospital very easy, especially if you don’t speak the language.

  So, flashback. I’m having a night out in Prague. My travelling companions decide to call it quits for the night, but I’m having too good a time. At some point in the night, my new drinking companions hand me a flaming Sambuca shot. They all downed theirs, but I hesitated. It was that hesitation, that pause to look at this flaming drink served to me in a plastic cup, that moment to think, “should I be doing this?” that was the difference. When I went to pour the drink into my mouth, the plastic gave way and liquid flame poured down my neck and doused my clothes. I woke up in a Czech hospital, with no way to communicate who I was or where I needed to be. And all my friends had to find me was that picture.

-Brett, as told to ts

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