Monday, April 07, 2008
the chronicles of hicksville - going boozing, part 2
Part 1: The Adventure Labels: stories
The Dodgiest Bar, Ever
After that little adventure of mine, I gave it some thought and figured that after about 2 years in this hicktown, it was time to go out and actually start looking for bars to go to. See the world, know what goes on in your neighbourhood. I think things like these are important in shaping your outlook of life.
So it was a Saturday night, and while Saturday nights usually means PARTEEEE for most people, my project was still going on and I had to work the next day. I had initially planned on watching a movie and then later going home to crash. But as I walked out of the cinema hall feeling unamused by way I had spent the last 2 hours (10,000 BC. Don't watch that crap), I decided to go out looking for nice bars to go to.
I knew of a particular club, but I also knew its reputation as a fengtau joint and I wasn't really in the mood for that kind of music. Come to think about it, I will never be in the mood for that kind of music. So, cruising around in my (mud stained) Proton, I finally found a bar in a back street somewhere.
It was 10.30pm, early by Malaysian standards. Too early in fact. When I walked in, there were two corner tables that were occupied, one of which was a table of very scantily clad girls. And I stress - girls, not women. I headed straight for the bar and ordered a Heineken. The fact that the bar did not have any bar stools annoyed me a little, so I was forced to pick a table and have a seat.
I was facing the pool table and the TV (I think House was on) and started drinking my beer, wondering when people would start coming in. At the pool table was a rather foxy girl, no older than 19, with a dress that her mother wouldn't approve off. Her playing partner looked like a schoolboy, but after 5 minutes, I realised it was one of the most boyish girls I have seen.
But the real story was when I got my drink. Immediately, two girls from the earlier mentioned table came over and sat next to me. One on either side. However, instead of being normal human beings trying to make social contact with an alien species, they sat next to me in a room full of empty tables and chairs, and just kept quiet, seemingly waiting for me to make the first move.
I have to admit that I am no party animal, at least not in this country, and certainly not in this town. But I knew of places in London before, strip joints, to be exact, where women would come up and talk to you and then later you would get a nice hefty bill for their services. When you consider the fact that Oprah makes as much as she does just by talking rubbish, I suppose paying women a 100 times more attractive than Oprah to talk to you doesn't sound that bad a deal if you need company.
Still, I would rather talk to myself than to pay some random girls, one of whom wasn't even hot. And what bothered me was that they sat at my table, next to me and didn't say a word. 5 minutes pass and I alternate between catching glimpses of Cuddy's ass on the TV and pool girl's ample cleavage. Oh, and the booze as well. Still the my two companions haven't uttered a word and have started playing with their phones.
Now, people who know me know that I don't smoke and in fact can't stand the smell of cigarettes, except when I drink because the taste of smoke mixed with alcohol forms the most pleasing sensation on your tongue. And of course, not forgetting that the combined sins of boozing and smoking increases your coolness factor ten-fold.
And since this was the first time I went drinking alone (I usually steal people's cigarettes), this was the day I bought my first pack of cigarettes. I got up all of a sudden, walked to the bar and asked for a pack of Mild Seven. It was the only brand they had. The barman didn't have a light, so I went back to my seat and asked the first of my companions who turned to watch me take my seat for a light. She said she didn't have one, but asked me for the fag anyway.
I gave her a stick, and watched as she took it in her mouth, walked over to a bunch of guys (who had just walked in 5 minutes before that and also had two female companions join them not too long after) and asked the guys for a light. She got it, took a puff, came back to my table where she took the stick out of her mouth and gave it to me.
You couldn't pay me enough to smoke that stick, especially since I can only guess the things that have been inside that mouth. And speaking of which, as I am writing this, remind me NEVER to share a straw with any of my female friends. Especially those who are sexually active. Thinking about it actually gives me shivers down my spine.
Anyway, I light another stick from the lighted stick she gave me, and gave her the cigarette for her troubles. She took it and continued the silent treatment. Another group of AhBengs walk in, and immediately another two girls from the infamous table go up to them and sit at their table. Whether the bar employs these girls, or whether they are self employed is beyond my knowledge of night life.
After being at the bar for a mere half an hour, I decide that I have seen enough, finish my beer and get out of there. The minute I pay my bill, the two girls get up from their seats and rejoin their colleagues at the infamous table.
The night was still young. I hadn't seen enough...
Next: The one night stand
Most bars have bar skanks to help boost drinks orders. Bars that have more skanks that customers are known as bifferies.
Did her breath smell of co*k? LOL
p.s. it's definitely a good idea to not share a straw with anyone. Some people have cooties (very common) and don't even know it.
Probably just a bunch of girlfriends out on a night to get some co*k.
i've never been to a bar/club alone before. if I were to drink alone, I'd do it at home, in front of the tv and scratching my balls. cheap and comfortable.