01/12/2025
Back in 2016, I owned a hostel in Phnom Penh with my business partner and good friend, Harry. During that one-year period, we welcomed an assortment of colourful and friendly characters from every corner of the globe. But unfortunately, every few weeks, someone walked through the doors who would proceed to make our lives a living hell. The following story can be found in my book, Burning Braincells in Cambodia, which is available to buy in both digital and paperback formats on Amazon. If you have any difficulty finding this book just type my full name “Richard John Currie” into the search bar on Amazon.
Nicholas and Harry were childhood friends in the same Australian suburbs; they hung out together in primary and secondary school before Nicholas dropped out, and then their friendship eventually ceased to exist. Harry didn’t hear a word from Harry until he randomly received a Facebook message one morning.
“One of my old friends from Australia is coming to Phnom Penh next week, he’ll be staying here for a month,” Harry casually informed me.
“That’s cool… A good friend?” I enquired.
“Well, I haven’t really heard from him in over thirty years.”
Nicholas would be staying at our hostel for the duration of his month-long stay in Phnom Penh. Harry seemed indifferent about seeing his friend again, after all, it had been over thirty years and not one e-mail or message was exchanged during that entire period.
Harry and I sat outside the hostel that evening, waiting for the arrival of Nicholas from Phnom Penh Airport. Eventually, a tuk-tuk pulled up and a man exited: he was dressed in green and looked like a gypsy, his frame was wiry and he had dreadlocks down to his knees.
I turned to Harry and said, “Check the state of that guy, he looks like Sideshow Bob from The Simpsons.”
Harry burst out laughing, then stopped abruptly. “Ummm… That’s him!”
“Alright, how’s it going?” Nicholas shouted happily as he walked towards Harry, before giving him a big hug.
Nicholas and Harry walked inside and began the check-in process. He paid cash up front for his first week before going to his room for a quick shower. Then, Harry returned to our table and remarked, “He looks different from what I remembered.”
“What, he didn’t have dreadlocks back in primary school?” I giggled.
Nicholas joined us an hour later and within five minutes of speaking to this guy my bullsh*t radar went into overdrive. Nicholas had been backpacking for over twenty years—this much I believed because he looked destitute—but his antics in these travel destinations were far-fetched. I’ve seen James Bond movies with more plausible storylines than Nicholas’s fantasies.
One minute he was in Lebanon fighting a gangster, the next minute he was in a Venezuelan prison where someone tried to shank him. It just went on and on, with one ridiculous story being delivered after another. Different locations, intrigue, adventure, and even romance involving beautiful women. These fairy tales had everything except dragons and wizards.
This guy was going to be a pain in the ass, but he was Harry’s friend so I would just have to tolerate him!
For those first few days, Nicholas persistently hung out at the bar, telling his adventure stories to anyone who’d listen. Every day, I’d peek inside the hostel to see if Nicholas was at the bar, if Sideshow Bob was there, I would return later, or perhaps the next day…
Or maybe the following week!
Immediately, I could tell that Harry did not like him. They didn’t seem to gel as friends and had no rapport. I’ve met Harry’s friends in the past, and they were all respectable, sociable, and fun to hang out with.
Nicholas was just trouble, but he’d paid for his first week in advance, so there was nothing we could do. Unfortunately, the payments abruptly stopped at the end of that first week. Nicholas had no more cash, so he gave Harry a tattered and bent credit card, which obviously didn’t work.
“Could I open up a line of credit with you guys?” Nicholas asked.
Harry shook his head—we only gave lines of credit to trusted friends, not random people who looked like Sideshow Bob!
“Sorry, mate, we don’t do lines of credit here,” Harry told Nicholas.
“Come on, we’re old friends,” he said with a smile.
This was an absurd argument: Harry and Nicholas hadn’t spoken since they were teenagers, and now Nicholas was pulling the buddy card?
“I know, but we have policies. Under no circumstances do we allow a line of credit. It’s the rules… I’m sorry,” Harry informed Nicholas.
“Can you loan me some money then?” he asked Harry. “I just need to pull a few things together in Phnom Penh.”
Nicholas had come to Cambodia with only enough money for a week, he took a credit card that looked like it was last used in the seventies, and now he wanted his long-lost friend to bail him out. If you looked up “dodgy” in the dictionary you’d see a picture of Nicholas!
Harry thankfully stood his ground. Of course they were friends, but this was business, and how could you trust a man who’d portrayed himself as some sort of global gangster to pay back the debt.
“Sorry, but I can’t loan you any money. You have to pay or leave,” Harry told him with finality.
Nicholas simply shrugged his shoulders and left that afternoon.
Both Harry and I were ecstatic to never see this dreadlocked-drifter again!
Sadly, this wasn’t the end of the saga and Nicholas did what all tough guys do: he sent Harry a threatening message on Facebook. Nicholas reminded Harry that he was well connected all over the world, and he’d felt insulted that his “old friend” hadn’t loaned him money. Nicholas ended this message by informing Harry that the knives were coming out.
“Don’t worry,” I said to Harry. “Real gangsters don’t message people talking tough. If Nicholas was legit, he’d say it to your face.”
There was no sign of Nicholas that first week, but he did make a surprise appearance later in the month when Harry and I were working. He sauntered in with a big smile on his face, acting as if nothing had happened.
“Hey mate,” he cheerfully remarked to Harry. “How’s it going?”
My business partner menacingly walked out from behind the bar and confronted this wannabe gangster who’d threatened him on Facebook.
“How’s it f*cking going?” Harry shouted.
Harry was toe-to-toe with Nicholas, who looked like he crapped himself.
“Mate, I thought we were friends,” Nicholas said, his voice trembling.
“F*cking friends?” Harry replied. “You said the knives were coming out!”
“Come on, we go way back…”
“Just get out.”
“But I—” Nicholas started to say.
“OUT!” Harry screamed.
Nicholas had acted like a gangster, claimed he’d spent time in a Venezuelan jail, and basically conducted himself like a tough guy…
Well, Nicholas instantly backed down and went running outside.
Thankfully, he never came back to our establishment again, and Harry blocked him on Facebook. Just as well really, he probably would have received a river of abuse and threats from the toughest man who ever walked the streets of Phnom Penh, Cambodia!
