WARNING 18+ Content
The following post contains descriptions of a graphic nature. Read on at your own risk and with an open mind. Everything described below occurred and there is nothing I can do about it but laugh. It was a terribly great night in every sense of the meaning.
Julie, having never been out of the country, also wasn’t a drinker so the view was nice, but there was little else to do as her daughter and I got progressively more drunk. After all, it was past 10pm and she was tired. Let them have a few cute hours together before he catches his plane. Kellie organised a taxi to take her back to the hotel. I gave my reassurances that I was a fine upstanding english gent, and would have her home safe and sound before she knew it. It was told with truth at the time…
I was flattered to have such an attractive girl on my arm and with such an awesome view, there really wasn’t any other option but to get some photos. Approaching a nearby waiter, we collared him and posed. Kellie, working for a PR firm, knew how to look awesome in front of the camera. She did a hair toss thing and a sideways look thing and a sexy strut thing with her arm that when I tried it made me look like a horny mexican hailing a cab. No matter, the waiter was a professional selfie taker and knew what he was doing. He took enough to find a few where I didn’t look like a criminal. We looked really cute together and while reviewing them I stole a kiss. It was returned passionately, which was a good sign.
The benefit/drawback of paying over 3000b for a bottle of wine is that your glass never empties. We were happily chatting to a pompous english chap who looked like a life sized version of the monopoly guy if he ran a game park in africa. On this occasion he didnt bring the hunting helmet and swapped knee high white socks and shorts for cream linen trousers, of course. An observant server silently arrived and while casually holding my glass aside, it was filled, practically without me knowing it. This meant our alcoholic intake was perhaps faster than we anticipated.
We retired to a lounge seat to finish the bottle and chat more about Kellies plans for her new teeth. It was a exuberant exchange and with the increased volume of alcohol in our bodies, our voices must have increased in volume also. An american slithered over, and as politely as a disgruntled american could be, asked us to quieten down. The smooth jazz music faded back up to audible levels as I realised maybe we were being a bit shouty for the clientel of this bar.
No matter, we couldn’t afford to drink any more, physically or fiscally. As the lift plummeted away from the high life we held each other and braced for our return to the streets. In our discussions, I had found out Kellie quite enjoyed roughing it, and that like me, Skybar was a bit of a treat. I found out just how rough she liked it when she cheekily blagged a free cigarette off the trashmen collecting in the road!
Her willingness to go rough was helpful as it meant she was with me fulfilling a deal I had struck with a local restaurateur. The Skybars dress code extended to not taking care of baggage while you attended, presumably to stop travellers like me just coming up for a glass of water and a peek at high society. I had walked around the base of the building and found these guys willing to babysit my bags till I returned and ordered some food. This was good coincidental forward planning as getting some food helped sober me up a little. Kellie ordered some too but was far too busy getting acquainted… loudly… in spanish… with a black guy sitting near us.
His name was Alpha, a tall, lithe dude with Senegal heritage who was travelling around doing break dancing demonstrations in the street. The food on the end of her fork swung around violently as she very authentically used her hands as much as her speech to communicate in spanish. I just enjoyed tuning in and listening to the language again, dropping in the occasional nugget that I could remember.
Alpha distracted Kellie long enough to give me a chance to organise somewhere to sleep that night. I had planned to head directly to the airport from the Skybar, but when I double checked my flights details I found I had checked out a day early! I had nowhere lined up for tonight so had to do some quick searching, before that noodle hit Alpha in the face and we needed to make a quick getaway.
Most of the noodles were eaten and so we climbed into the tuk tuk taxi to the hotel I’d found. Now alone and hugging in the back of the taxi we took advantage of the lack of class surrounding us. The kissing grew more passionate and body positions less publicly acceptable as we pressed together.
Dumping my bag in the hotel, I was dragged back out into the night in search of tequila. A pioneering local caught onto our state of drunkenness and helpfully directed us up some stairs. These stairs were covered in seedy red velvet that had seen better days under a sign saying “Ping Pong Show”. At the top, there was a room with more seedy, suggestively stained, red velvet lining the walls and a raised white platform in the centre with stools surrounding it. There were several poles from platform to ceiling on which semi-naked girls wiggled vaguely in time to the music. They didn’t seem very enthusiastic, but it was tequila time for us, followed up with a blue drink that glowed in the UV (does UV count as one of your 5-a-day?)
The first part of the show was a strip tease by a larger than healthy girl. I say strip, but there were only pants to be removed. Once this was done it revealed a hairy minge (which was partly a relief having heard other rumours) with a UV green string hanging out… It was like a car crash happening in slow motion. You don’t want to watch but some morbid curiosity and horror prevented us from looking away as the string was pulled. The string had flowers along its length that popped out in little UV bursts that like a clown pulling a ribbon out of his hand, went on and on and on! There must have been about 5 meters of flora threaded cord up there!
Without missing a beat she was off and the next person with a practised pubic region stepped up. This was an interactive part of the show that I swear, will scar me for life. We were given a paper cone each and asked to hold them still. The new performer inserted what looked like a sausage and after a quick aim, squeeze, grunt and hip thrust, came shooting out at us! After the shock of the first one bouncing off our table we understood the perversion of the classic ball in cup game. We endeavoured to catch the next ones, if only to prevent them touching us!
When all sausages in the salvo had been fired, the last entertainer came forth, asking for my name. A piece of paper and a marker pen was produced. By gripping the pen in her lady-garden and doing the splits above the paper she, very dexterously, wrote out “HELLO MATT”. This may not have been the finale but we had seen enough and Kellie had other ideas about what constituted entertainment when music, a pole and a platform were available.
She ejected the naked thai ladies from the stage and started her own performance for my pleasure. She was really good to be fair, even in her advanced stage of intoxication, able to swing around and pose very suggestively with the pole. I’m sure my blood alcohol level also contributed to how seamless and evocative the dance looked. But I’m a man and I enjoyed the occasional flash of pants and tightly packed boobs this spectacle provided. And, it was even better than any strip club because I was allowed, encouraged in fact, to get involved!
I think it was at this point the last few shots caught up with us and Kellie’s swinging took a dangerous turn. She nearly came off the stage so I figured it was a good time to end the night. She wasn’t happy about it and while shouting something unintelligible she wasn’t really in a condition to argue, or walk for that matter. The stairs loomed ahead of us, I was barely managing to keep her upright on the flat. While we had pretty much matched our drinks all night, I’m about twice the height and density of her and was reasonably sober, comparatively. I figured the safest way to descend would be a fireman’s lift over my shoulder.
Emerging at the bottom of the stairs, I must have looked a right state carrying this poor girl out. But no sooner set free, than she wobbled directly into the 7-11 next door yelling something. It was quite funny to try and keep up with her trail of destruction and interpret the shouted mumblings. She settled for pulling items off the shelves at random and after some apologising and manoeuvring, I paid for the damage and got her back outside.
And so endeth the most random and crazy night I have ever had. It was a short but very long walk back to the hotel that evening. The shouting continued but I did my best to contain it, especially when we got in the hotel. Finally in bed, the night caught up with us both and we drifted off in about 10 seconds flat.