Exhale

I shall never go clubbing without a guy again. Club bouncers are not enough, I need my own personal bouncer.

I went to MOS with Anjali the other day to show her around because she'd wanted to go for a while. So we hung around having drinks, fishing out lychees out of her lychee Martini, attempting to take pictures with our cellphones, watching the bartender drop the bottles he was juggling and generally just having a good time hanging out by ourselves. Note the significance of our last two words - By Ourselves. We were having fun by ourselves by the little sofa we had managed by a stroke of luck to snag which offered us both a good view of the dance floor and a chance to watch our favourite bartender do increasingly ridiculous stunts with his bottles. And we consoled ourselves with the assumption that even though it was Ladies' Night, there wouldn't be too many annoying pre-pubescent guys around because it's World Cup season and they would all probably at home watchin Sweden thrash England or something.

Then we realized that MOS beams the World Cup anyway.

As quickly as you could say Score! some White guy toddled over to our table slurring "What's the strongest thing they have here? Do they have absinthe?". Hardly fine connoiseurs of alcohol we just told him we weren't sure. I had vague notions of absinthe, all related to a scene in Moulin Rogue when Ewan McGregor and his pals drink the said poison and have strong hallucinations involving Kylie Minogue dancing in front of them singing 'The Sound of Music'. Well that's partly it right? However undiscouraged, White boy goes off to the table next to us only to hear from them that absinthe is banned in Singapore because of its extremely high alcohol content or something along those lines. While White boy sallies forth looking for a more potent mixture, his companion, Black Guy, sitting at the table next to us comes over saying 'Hi can my friend and I join you?'. With significant reservations on my part, Anjali nevertheless graciously allows our new acquaintances to join us - Chinese and Indian girl. We also learn that their names are Wykidd and Turner (now I shall cease with the race-specific identifications).

I have no doubt Wykidd was trying to be nice when he attempted to strike up conversation with Anjali who was next to him. Nevertheless I felt faintly annoyed by this...incursion. I'm sorry if I'm sounding antisocial but whatever. I don't go to clubs to meet new people. Period. Particularly guys whom I've never met before and are from out of town and on Ladies' Night. Especially after Turner later comes over saying excitedly "EVERYONE SAID WE SHOULD COME HERE OR TO ZOUK TONIGHT CAUSE IT'S LADIES' NIGHT AND THERE'RE LOTS OF WOMEN!' I am prone to be very guarded under such circumstances - but isn't every one? If I wanted to make new friends I'd go to. I don't know. The NUS Arts camp they keep calling me about or something. In any case, I think Wykidd must've sensed the icicles practically bristling on my skin which I believe is why he focused mainly on Anjali only breaking occasionally to say something like "I'm sorry Jeanne I don't think I asked you how old you were? .....Oh. That's great. Anyway Anj, can I call you Anj? What should we do while in Singapore?..."

I should probably be more cordial to strangers. In any case, Turner comes over to the table already smelling of alcohol.

Turner: CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? THE STRONGEST THING I COULD GET WAS A HEINEKEN! DO YOU GIRLS WANT A DRINK? ....NO? WHY NOT? AH C'MON I'LL GET YOU ALL A HEINEKEN. LET'S HAVE FUN!

And then came my horror. With Anjali and Wykidd getting along famously (well at least cordially)...would the unspoken law of double dating fall onto this situation, thus making me obliged to converse with the guy who was going -

Turner: YOU GIRLS DANCE??? IN THE STATES PEOPLE WOULD BE GOING WILD ON THE DANCE FLOOR BY NOW!! ... NO? BUT ITS OK I DON'T DANCE WELL EITHER!!... AW C'MON LET'S HAVE SOME FUN!

In the end, after failing to get us both to a) have another drink b) dance they don't take the hint but go -

Turner: WELL WE GOTTA TAKE SOME PICTURES THEN! C'MON! THERE'S A PHOTO ROOM RIGHT BELOW! I WANNA TAKE A PICTURE! LETS HAVE SOME FUN!!

Well how could we say no to an innocuous picture? So we went down to some room where MOS staff were taking free pictures of clubbers 'having fun' and 'enjoying each other's company'. And while waiting our turn, Anjali and Wykidd appeared absorb in conversation. (I start to think that maybe I shouldn't have been so antagonistic to the only sober one) I stand some way behind them, arms crossed, while Turner mooches around nearby with his Heineken. So to avoid having to make conversation I start msging a couple of people about my awkward predicament and my ever concerned boyfriend replies with stern dictums: DO NOT ACCEPT ANY OF THEIR DRINKS AND IF ANJALI GETS TOO FRIENDLY WITH THEM LEAVE IMMEDIATELY! (she wasn't too happy to see this later on)

In the meantime, my face must've betrayed some sour look because like some unending commentary -

Turner: YOU DON'T LIKE PICTURES? YOU DON'T LIKE SMIILING FOR PICTURES?...OH REALLY? WELL LEMME TEACH YOU A TRICK! WHEN YOU TAKE PICTURES YOU SHOULD CLOSE ONE EYE AND WINK LIKE THIS! *demonstrates* BUT YOU DON'T LIKE PICTURES? PICTURES ARE FUN! YOU KNOW, WE GOTTA HAVE FUN!

After repeating 5 times to him that No I'm fine with pictures, I'm just surprised MOS has a little photo room because I never noticed it before, we finally go before the camera man...which gives me an excuse to stop justifying what he thinks is my inexplicable abhorrence for film and basically to just stop talking. Then after almost being strangled across the neck by an overzealous 'WE GOTTA HAVE FUN!' we head toward the Main Arena supposedly to dance or do something else 'fun', when Turner suddenly disappears. I suppose I should've noticed his absence earlier because technically I was lagging behind AnjKidd with him, only I was determinedly walking at a faster pace to avoid talking to him and his half drunk Heineken (Gosh I really am antisocial) so oh well. Then Wykidd goes off to look for his friend, and we (with much egging on my part) carpe diem and lose ourselves.

And can you believe it? Immediately after I felt very bad. Though not really for the One who chose to wander off by himself on what I thought was a fairly straight corridor and was already drinking himself toward inebriation and renal failure by 10pm, but rather for his friend who had to go look for him and make sure he was alright. In fact, to compound my guilt, we bumped into Wykidd not 15 minutes later looking rather flustered and still alone. And then I started to feel that inconvenient thing called sympathy, because they'd only been in Singapore for a few hours, in an unfamiliar location, with no cellphone to contact each other. So we helped look for Turner for a while before we left because Anjali had a curfew. But still felt bad all the way back for abandoning the (admittedly) nice Black Guy, well, twice.

Nevertheless is it wrong on my part not to want to make new friends at clubs? I don't want to have to go through the contortions of figuring out how to reject their drinks and not dance with them! I don't want to get anxious while plotting how to ditch them! My antisocial self emerges in clubs! Don't touch me!

Hence I maintain my thesis statement that I should always, without fail, go to a club with a male companian. Not only because they do come in handy when we utilize their pockets for our handphones, wallets, misc items, but also because they act/masquerade as The Potential Boyfriend and hence Dominant Male Rival and Personal Bouncer. A Trinity of Protection. And it pre-empts any guilt at having to ditch a new acquaintance.

Or maybe we should've just done what we should've done from the start and politely declined their company. That would've been easier yet in many ways, harder for us polite Asians. Ah well.

I must learn to be more cordial in any case.

posted by Jeanne @ 11:41 PM