“Hey, what’s with that guy?” I laughed, gesturing to a deeply tanned, middle-aged man who is dancing with two shady-looking Vietnamese women, one over six feet tall. We’re next to a small bar in the backpacker district of Ho Chi Minh City. The six-footer clawed at the man’s shrunken black disco shirt, desperately trying to…

We were ripped off, as usual, as the three of us stepped out of the taxi and into a steamy, puddle-filled section of Hanoi. Adam, a towering Beta from Long Island, wasn’t too happy. “Fifty five thousand fucking dong! Fuck that’s like four dollars. I knew we shouldn’t have taken this piece of shit taxi.”…