After class, Charlie and I departed for the weight room, which was closed due to the weekend. I went for a run around the NUS track, but it was only sub-par, and came back in order to do an ab workout. Charlie quickly collapsed into a sleepy stupor in his bed, and Justin was watching "The Office". I decided against allowing my pungent body from further polluting the room, and took my shower.
I went off to find food, only to find every single Asian place closed. Only Subway remained opened, and every bite was delicious, a delicious betrayal of trying to do everything I could to immerse, or at least experience a culture. Finding my professor in conversation with a few others, I entered the lobby of the Visitor's Lodge and engaged until around 10 o'clock. I watched as every woman departed to see "Sex and the City 2", and slowly made my way into Jamie's room, hoping that someone wanted to do something that didn't involve sitting around and staring at another all day.
Episode IV (Which is actually the first movie btw) : A New Hope
Nearly every guy gathered in Jamie's room, which was a long talk in Facebook photos and put-down conversation. I even engaged further than I wanted or really should have. Finally, the behemoth of a group ordered taxis to go into Clark Quay, one of the bar districts in Singapore. As the taxis come and we gather amid the smoke, cacophony of voices, and alcoholic beverages, a growing unease begins. The group decides to check-out Hooters here in Singapore, and it is every bit as wonderful as it is in the States. However, the group decides that endless loitering ought to occur, and many of the guys form a circle, insulating Clark Quay from their very view.
Everything was lost. The night was going to be a stream of lengthy intervals between drinks, and I was going to be the endless observer.
But then, light...
While standing outside of Hooters, Charlie made several attempts at negotiated drinks with the bartender. After wheeling and dealing, the slow decision making process that can only characterize groups continues to obfuscate his every attempt at "doing something". The crowd is thick and people must touch shoulders to walk in along the avenue. Suddenly, Charlie moves with purpose. The world comes in only snapshots, and he approaches two of the most gorgeous girls we are to see in Singapore.
These girls are small, skinny, but maintain their features in such a way that their body speaks of contradiction and beauty. Charlie moved only so slightly, grabbed one of their hands, and began in conversation. A shock approaches their face only for the slightest time. Charlie has taken a chance. These are two Singaporeans, and Singaporeans of great beauty. Barely knowing what I was doing, I swung to the group of three, balance had to be maintained. I widened my walk, moved out my shoulders, and placed my sexuality squarely back in the closet.
In the first few seconds, I nearly blow the whole operation. Charlie looks at me in the first second as a potential threat, a question that remained only for that second. I insult him as friends would do, barely paying attention to the two tightly black dressed points of light. Conversation picks up. About what? It matters not. They are forced to ask about our nationality, we play them, asking them about good clubs and where we can meet nice girls.
The signs begin to accumulate. The girls begin to touch their hair, giggle and laugh to one another. However, their two-person support group is no match for the fast talking words Charlie lays upon them, and the ever so slight support fire from his wingman. Charlie attacks the girl to our right with a slight salsa dance, which is comparable only to the "Funky Cool Medina". The ignored girl to our right, who glows ever more radiant, begins to brush her hair with such vigor there was little sense in combing it that morning. These two have fallen.
In the moments that should have been the close, Charlie moves away. He begins the conversation closer, and his mistake is made. He fails to ask for a number, for a time off, or even for a hug. It was evident. As well as we were doing, Charlie did not see the same signs that his gay-closeted wingman had seen, and he was moving away. While everything ended in the most cordial of ways, the girls themselves were sad to see things go.
However, there now was hope. Charlie looked at me like you would a half-pickled cucumber. What the hell was I? Then, a smile breaks, along with an "ohmygosh". And the preliminary deal is struck. We were going to meet people that night. We were going to run game, and we were going to have fun. The two of us formed the nucleus of a dangerous particle. Times were to be had.
Episode V: The Catholic Strikes Back
Attica is a club at Clark Quay, and, if you were failed to be born with in-door plumbing, you must wait in a lengthy line, as thickly built Malaysian bouncers glare at you. Women escape into the front door with little time in between.
Before making our way directly to the club, Charlie and I need to warm up. The gorgeous duo of before was almost happenstance, and something needed to happen with intention. Charlie scans left and right, and my eyes fix upon the crowds. In the most unlikely of places, a mass of five Jakartan girls appear.
Charlie approaches without so much as a hello. Five girls, four who are dressed more modestly and one with far more flare. Charlie looks at her for two seconds, "You're the mean one, they're the nice ones". The game had begun. With only his body he began to engaged the four and blocked the one. The one attempted to give him a kick, and so quickly was she rejected by this stranger that she sought validation from the only one who could give it to her. I quickly engaged in every stall mechanism that would give Charlie even more time, and her agitation of not being recognized only grew. Again, the game of asking where to find a club and some nice girls was played. The girls were finally directed to Attica, and Charlie and I departed.
While making another round Clark Quay, a total tranny came up to Charlie, said, "Hey handsome", slapped his ass, and we continued. Wonderful night punctuated with strange events.
Episode VI: Return to Attica
We made our way back to the entrance of Attica, were many of the other guys were patiently waiting in line for their chance to enter. We thought better of it, and waited near the entrance for women. Quickly making a friend or two, we were surrounded and the Malaysian body guards could do nothing but accept that we should be entered.
Upon entrance, the steam that filled the room revealed a laser display and hard music that would be enough for a deaf man to hear. The bar was directly in front, with a dance floor in the back and a techno dance floor on the second floor. Almost by divine providence, the next two girls revealed themselves. The second girl would show only much later in the night, but the first was clad in white, sharp high heals, and an attitude that could lead lemmings to their doom.
Her accent was obviously Australian (our third nationality for the night). Charlie made his way to the bar, and I occupied her with attention. Charming conversation about accents, where in Australia she was from, and her life as a flight attendant danced about. Attention was given, but it was earned. I made sure to look further into the club, letting her know that conversation was not a given. Soon after, Charlie arrived with the first round of drinks. However, it wasn't too long before it was time to move again.
Upwards the bar, we ran into a group of four Indians (nationality Singaporean, ethnicity Indian, from Kashmir). Charlie occupied one girl, while I quickly identified the other three as sisters. I characterized each vocally as the eldest, responsible child, the middle, forgotten child, and the baby. As Charlie moved between them, he eventually settled on stealing their youngest sister. Returning from the dance floor, it was clear that the "Funky Cool Medina" had struck again, and none of the sisters or friend, save for the middle sister (my particular partner), could get enough of Charlie. At any point where he directed attention of one to another, I could dance them to me, away back to Charlie, or make them wait in turn. Let's be clear. We approached them, even stole them from some none-to-bad Indians, and, yet, they acted as though their time was our favor.
Time again elapsed, and we left them to wonder, and perhaps mercifully recover, and moved up to the Techno Floor. Charlie departed for the bathroom, and I spotted our Jakartan friends from before. We flitted over for only a few seconds, and I watched as the "mean" Jakartan turned away from her dance partner only to send Charlie and me a few moves of affection. However, they would again be left as wallflowers, dancing alone, with longing looks emanating from the broken hearts only we could deliver.
Then, disaster seemed to strike. We approached two good looking Chinese girls, and in a matter of seconds, Charlie's girl was looking to make-out. However, my intended target needed distraction I could not provide. Her single-minded directionality was uncharacteristically belligerent, and like a Japanese to an atomic, I could only be caught in the flash. She dragged her friend away, and it was lost.
Attempting to recover, Charlie approached another Chinese. She was dancing and with the first invitation to conversation, her hand flew up into the air. At the second approach, it happened again. Charlie made one more maneuver, but she held. Little lost, and little troubled, we moved again down, where we ran into the Aussie.
Recognizing the time, I told Charlie that we had soon best head out. This was just the information the Aussie needed in order to try to get us to stay; however, I made the mistake of mentioning Mass in the morning. Her countenance fell and she quickly demanded to know the status of my religious affiliation, "Catholic or Christian". After some play between Charlie and I, I confirmed the Catholicism. She moved away from me, the Titanic was sinking, but Charlie intervened to save what survivors there were. With an inaudible question from Charlie, the girl told him that she was a bisexual-lesbian. A fine card to play, but Jacob always has a trump.
I move over to her, tell her that she has to keep a secret, and open a crack in the closet of my homosexuality. She was near ecstatic, pulled me aside to meet her gay friend, and went on in conversation with Charlie. Their conversation went from "I can't believe he's gay" to Charlie then spinning her around his finger.
As for meeting the gay friend, Jacob was now out of his element. I couldn't destroy everything that was built, as my first instinct would be to talk about my boyfriend, but this would mean disaster. The guy was cute, so maneuvering in that domain was not difficult; however, flirting with gay men was never my specialty. In fact, I never really flirted with men, people would interpret my genuine interest and attention as flirting. Needless to say, when I tried to call upon any instinct of a single-gay man, it was a disaster. However, I bumbled through enough that Charlie managed to finish the conversations.
We met up again with our Indian friends, before wishing each a farewell, being put in several pictures, and Charlie passing along his Facebook information. Finally departing, we queued in lien for a taxi (how things are done in Singapore).
However, what should happen, but the Aussies should show up. We moved them to our position in line, and presented more conversation. In this area, I did much better, as I had a group to talk to. Charlie attempted to exchange Facebook information as the taxi cab driver and people in line sent nasty signals and invectives.
The night was done, we returned safely.
The Deal
A deal had to be negotiated. Charlie had found himself a wingman, and I had found a way to interact directly with the local cultures. I would serve in my capacity as best as I could. Obviously, nothing was going to be done that would compromise my position with Danny. If the Aussie had pressed any further, boyfriend conversation would have been used. Jacob will Hindenburg a group if higher morals comes in the way.
Altogether though, an arrangement was made, three episodes were written. Hopefully, totally unlike George Lucas, the next will not end in flames.
you are such a great story-teller. best post to date.
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