Monday, March 12, 2007
Manila Rendezvous- First Night
Ok, I have been meaning to talk about Manila. It has been at the back of my mind to mention that new beau of mine (slight yawn!!!), amidst a few other verbal and eye contact flirtations I had with other boys there (I really adore them!!!). Partying and dining with society's elites, thanks to my hosts' extensive contacts (themselves obviously in that charmed circle) where everyone seems to be owning extensive pieces of lands, casinos, hotels, golf courses, cemetaries and being involved in developing island resorts, the best parts of town in the form of shopping malls and quality residential estates or involved in politics, it all seemed very feudal. I led a rather charmed life there but not for too long... abracadebra! I am back in my reality, a salaried professional working class that always look slightly tired without the make-up on.
Let's call my new beau, Ted. Ted has absolutely nothing to charm me at first sight, in looks and in aura. If V and B were to see him, they would go really,"yeee..... P, what is wrong with you?" Actually quite rightly so, except when we started getting hot and heavy, I was not in the best frame of mind. But then again, outer appearance has never been my priority when I get attracted to a man. In fact, good looks to me are a bonus but not vital in the equation.
Come to think of it, my very first boyfriend (when I was thirteen) was the ugliest piece of shit I have ever had. He was ugly inside out. I could never look him in the face but was too nice and sweet then to admit to him (when he asked) why I never eye him when we spoke. I didn't know what I had unwittingly got myself into (and should I not be relieved finally when he decided to ditch me but not upfront; got his girlfriend to ring me up instead. I was so being played out!).
But even now, I never feel that it is my place to call someone ugly (unless of course, it comes in a double package of being undesirable both in character and in outer appearance). I cannot help being old fashioned that way... Ugly to me is still quite a harsh and cruel word although funnily, I instinctively spot the facial imperfections of humankind (since I was five) with the precision of a comestic surgeon and deemed that there is always some work that could be done to fix one's face to achieve a certain level of facial "perfection"...
In my own instance, I would like to shrink my face to a nice almond shape...
I have only had two peers in my experience that I cannot find any "fault" in their looks- one being B and another is a girl that I was acquainted to by the name of J some 12 years ago. I was enthralled by her beauty as with everyone at the beach. We could not take our eyes off her. She is the prettiest girl that I have ever met in real life back then...
Now, let's get back on track.
****
I don’t know how it happened. I think it must have started at the Embassy Bar on that Saturday night. Earlier in the day, my hosts have informed me that Ted would like to take me out to dine and have a good night out. My hosts introduced us quite casually the night before at a party when he was semi-drunk. I didn’t think we made a huge impression for each other although as usual, I remembered almost everyone’s names. So comes the next day when the matter was broached lightly by my friend (the hostess) as we went for our girly shopping trip, she mentioned that Ted had rung that morning to ask for an introduction by her husband and had proposed to play host and take me on a date that night.
I declined. “But I came here to spend time with you,” I protested.
I decided that he could be invited to join us clubbing with my hosts and their other friends that night. My hosts and I have made these plans the night before and I was not about to change for someone that I barely knew. The more the merrier, I reckoned although I am hardly a groupie.
To cut the long story short, Ted came along with his two other male buddies to the café and sat at the next table from ours consisting of my hosts and their other friends, all belonging to society prominence before we headed to the chic and exclusive Embassy Bar (where my local company were mostly VIP members, which they ironically sneer at the notion) in the heart of uptown Mercati. I realized that Ted and his gang did not belong to this Big Boys’/First Wives’ Club of my seated company. I happened to be seated at the far end of the table away from Ted and I was aware that my male host attempted to get me up to move over to Ted’s table for a quick re-introduction. Understanding too well of my social obligations that night since Ted made an appearance for me, I excused myself from the ladies who were engrossed in all their make-up artists and wedding couture talk.
So I sat down with the boys and was truly enjoying their company. Ted’s buddy, Guitar is quite the male version of me. I observed the social charms that he exuded reminiscent of my dynamics with B in stranger or public company. He played the spokesperson for Ted, obviously interested in me but somewhat tongue tied and awkward at the beginning (very unlike his tipsy state) and led the conversation. Hence at the beginning, it seemed like it was just the two of us bantering about business ideas. But like myself and me being myself, Guitar was quick to lead the conversation back to Ted for him to partake in the interaction while I too made sure that Ted’s other buddy, Ron was not excluded. In fact, he kept trying to sound me out about my receptiveness in living in the Philippines. As usual, my answers were always that I am open to new ideas and where money ideas could take me. It was at this juncture that I mentioned about my passion for the food and death business that I realized by accident that the boys are in the know as they were quite eager to assist me. I didn’t mention my greater ambitions, property development which I were only to realize later that their families are property moguls in their own right in this part of the world.
At the club, Ted naturally kept buying his friends and me drinks. I quite recalled two guys (with accents and mannerisms that suggest they were seemingly educated abroad) who started chatting me up at the VIP members’ lounge. I was in high enough spirits and was happy to chat to anyone that seemed remotely interesting. Observant Guitar was nimble enough to whisk me away as he enveloped his arm around my waist and turned me back in the opposite direction to the boys.
My hosts, who are not big party animals themselves decided to take leave for the night as their other friends were also leaving. I reckon it was also their way of giving Ted a chance to spend time with me. They bid me farewell and assured that I was in good hands and I should continue to enjoy myself and party on with great company- the gate and the house would be unlocked so I was free to return anytime I liked. By this time, I was sufficiently happy and tipsy. I quite remember spending most of my time with Guitar and Ron dancing away and two other girls (Ron’s friend; one pretty Chinese Filipino and her blond Eurasian cousin from Virginia); Ted continued to be missing in action, only to appear occasionally with more drinks in hands for everyone. Guitar had a great time letting his hands go free-willy around my waist and I quite adore his manliness at that point in time. But as usual, I was aware of Ted’s interest and took care not to induce an awkward situation that resulted in a run in between the two buddies.
When Ted returned to join us finally perhaps having taken enough alcohol to sum up some Dutch courage, I was ushered by the boys to head for the commoners’ dance floor. It was massive and crowded. I quite recalled dancing with the boys. In fact, I was sandwiched between Ted and Guitar, both taking turns to guide me by the waist lest I strayed away in the crowd. I think I must be at the peak of my tipsiness at this stage. We were also talking about Ted coming to visit Singapore and Australia and he said that he would go visit when I am around. I now vaguely recall that it must have been there and then that Ted and I snogged. I remembered being fully aware (as with all other illicit experiences) and the thing that went on in my light-headed mind was that I was yet again kissing another stranger man. It must be then that he started holding my hand. Then I just got higher and higher with the alcohol running through my bloodstream…
I vaguely remembered us pushing through the crowd to get out but I don’t recall entering the massive window tinted and chauffer-driven 4WD. I just remembered being in the 4WD. Guitar sat on the right passenger seat next to the chauffer, Ted and I in the second row of the three rows of seats behind the drivers’ seat and Ron sat in the back row. The boys asked me where I wanted to go. In my tipsy state, I made bold and said anywhere but home since I am on holidays and wouldn’t like to waste time sleeping. I think I said I would like to go to a karaoke and asked if there were any around. The chauffer must have driven us around town for a long time and I suspected in my drunken state, I was getting difficult because they mentioned that all the karaoke joints were closed and I insisted they were lying and I didn’t care and demanded they would have their ways to find me an open one.
At some stage, Ted was getting frustrated with my insistent and difficult ways (he was to say the next day that I was scary when I was drunk, reminding me of the time where my first French, W said the same thing- W never saw an angrier person, I hit him so hard and I was really losing it for him forgetting to pick up my cashmere cardigan with the diamante buttons at the pub while we were in the cab that the cabbie begged us to leave his car; guess I never get away with bad manners like my girlfriends often do with men and comes “high” time and when triggered by an imperfect situation, the alcohol pretty much dilutes my will to comport myself and behave like a well-bred lady and I betrayed the angry side of me) and said let’s go home since we didn’t have anywhere to go next.
I said no- I don’t want to go home. Even in my tipsy state, I observed and was aware that Guitar was smart enough (or rather, have enough emotional intelligence) to not reason with a drunkard. He used the tactic that I would have used with one. He tried placating me and went on to agree with me, “Yes, I know what P wants to do. She is on holidays and just would like to go anywhere for fun and not go home. Right P?”
“Yes.” I replied light-headedly. I liked it because for once, a guy was getting it with me.
Ted was getting helpless and perturbed by my tantrums and didn’t know how to proceed with the situation. So Guitar took charge and instructed the chauffer in Tagalog to proceed to his designated spot.
We arrived at our destination and for some strange reason and I now begin to wonder if it was a place owned by Guitar’s or Ted’s family, we parked at the reserved car spot below a chalet type hotel. Then we walked up the stairs that leads exclusively to the room. Without keys, we opened the door and I quite re-call it was a contemporary decorated sleek and clean hotel room with a huge plasma TV. I was piqued even in my tipsiness because I was still alert enough to realize that I could potentially have placed myself in a vulnerable position with three able-bodied men and a chauffer who would definitely be an accomplice in crime should shit happens. This is a country where money talks and anything could be possible. I have been placed in a precarious situation before and I was not about to be made a fool the third time and I grew really angry. My self-preservation instincts took me on the defensive mode.
“WHY are we coming to a hotel room? I DON”T want to go to a hotel room!” I demanded angrily. I turned to head down the stairs.
“But didn’t you want to sing karaoke? We can sing here!” Guitar tried cajoling me.
“This is NOT a karaoke!” I was getting very aggravated and walked down the stairs.
The guys followed suit and we got back to the car.
“Alright, alright, we’ll go somewhere.” Guitar continued to appease me.
Then someone must’ve decided that everyone should perhaps have supper and we proceeded to a Chinese restaurant.
We got seated in the restaurant and it was then I realized that one of the bows of my new shoes has gone missing. I think I must be beyond consolation at the sight of my imperfection. At this time, I was also well aware that I have also lost my beautiful diamante hair comb tucked into my hair. I tried my darnest to tame my disheveled hair down to look at least half decent. I pulled out my imperfect shoe and slapped it on the table. I needed it fixed and for the imperfection to be undone- the panic attack within me set in once more as I felt that I was losing control of my life and me. It did not help that the alcohol in my system was magnifying my loss and heightening my emotions. I could not bear the sight and my loss any further.
“Fix it! Fix my shoe, baby,” I demanded Ted before the guys.
“Look, what’s happen to my shoes! Do something about it! I cannot have shoes that look like this! I want my bow back!”
“I can’t! The shops are closed now and it’s 5 a.m in the morning!” Ted sounded so exasperated and it almost seemed like he was just about to cry or walk out on me.
Guitar stepped in and again tried appeasing me again.
“We’ll take you shopping tomorrow. We’ll go to Ferragamo and Ted will buy you the bow clips and shoes with bows. And then we’ll take you for a foot massage. Don’t worry about it now!”
The thought of wearing Ferragamo shoes further piqued me since they never fitted me well and the pair I bought in New York has only given me the most discomfort than any of the cheap shoes that I have ever bought in my life!
“No, I want my CHEAP shoe fixed!” I insisted again.
Poor Ted repeatedly said he couldn’t because it was too late. He was being put at his wits’ end.
At some point, Guitar in his over zealousness to sell his friend’s strengths to me and also to placate me, added, “… Ted will make you happy….”
The alcohol really got into me at this stage and the idea of him having the audacity to make such a big statement triggered the bitterness and deep-seated anger and melancholy within my dark soul.
“Ted can NEVER make me happy!” I spat the words out contemptuously.
Ted got hurt and offended and stormed out of the restaurant. I suspect it was more of a case that a girl before his male buddies had bruised his ego than he seriously cared that he couldn’t make me happy.
“Look you have upset Ted. Go after him!” I detected that slightly patronizing tone in Guitar’s s voice of someone not taking a deemed drunkard too seriously, combined with slight amusement of “lovers’ tiff” being acted before him.
My social instincts knew the wiser for me not to offend my suitor and I needed to do some social redemption here. I discerned that Ted was probably a hot- blooded person but he was really an easily placated man. It would definitely save his face before his two buddies if I bothered to come after him. So I went after him in my tipsy state, still quite alert enough to be worrying about my own safety wandering in the dark outside although I knew our chauffer was waiting outside.
Times like this, I find it highly amusing to play the role of the doormat taking the humble pie but it was quite refreshing for a change, really for laughter and self-preservation’s sake.
I found Ted standing outside one of the closed shops about ten metres away from the restaurant. I think he was trying to cool himself down.
I came up to him and hugged him. I saw his face brightened up.
“Oh baby, come back! Don’t be angry with me.” I whined.
And then we kissed and made up.
“Let me take you home. It is getting really late. It’s 5.30 in the morning,” he said affectionately.
“Nooooooooo…. I want to spend more time with you.” I whispered into his ear in that semi-whiney tone. Ted looked placated.
We walked back to the restaurant. The strap of my green dress kept falling off my shoulder and he pulled it back up a few times as I walked in a haphazard manner holding his hand.
“Fix yourself up.” He spoke in his semi-authoritative/ chauvinistic tone when we got back to our dining table where his buddies were. I knew he wanted to re-gain some of his lost dignity before the boys and I ignored him, half smiling in my dreamy state, my mind has now wandered to be reminded of B. He sounded just like B knuckle-rapping me whenever my bra strap or strap is showing, or off my shoulder or my cleavage (which isn’t very much without bra aids) are peeping at a top with an overly plunging neckline. B has this protective instinct for me, especially when we are met by preying stares of lecherous men. In my head, I was getting amused. He pulled my strap up finally after its refusal to obey my vague attempt at restoring it back on my shoulder. Then he went on to pull at the hem of my dress under the table by making sure it was falling neatly on my lap so that I wasn’t too exposed. But really, the length of the dress had fallen nicely and appropriately at where it should be and I thought he was fussing over me.
It must have been at this juncture that Guitar proposed that Ron and himself would take leave. Ted could take me home.
“No! No one is to leave. If we went out together as a team, we leave together as a team!” I demanded.
It must be the work ethic in me- team orientation. But then again, I always have this thing with my friends when we have a big night out- I like to know that everyone is safe and sound and have managed to get home in one piece.
“We’re NOT a team!” Ted was exasperated.
At some stage, we all decided to head home together. Ted must have begged me to go home and to go and rest as he had to start work at 8.00am that Sunday morning at the casino owned by his and my host’s family. He would take me out tomorrow afternoon, Guitar and him must have promised. I told them to ring my hosts the next day instead to check with them on my social schedule. I too was getting tired by then and conceded to call it a night. We got into the car, Ted and I in our hugging, lovey-dovey state.
Back in the car, I slumped myself down on the middle row and propped my back up by leaning between the window and the seat where I sprawled the entire length of my body and rested my legs on Ted’s lap. In my tipsy bedroom eyes, I smiled at Ted seductively. He reciprocated the smile, his hands wandering up my legs under my dress. Then he slided his finger into my panties and started to give me pleasure…
When the chauffer finally dropped me off at the fancy address where I was putting up, Ted walked me to my room. I whispered that I wanted him to tuck me into bed. His friends and the chauffer waited in the car.
The rest was history as all would guess…
One thing though, he stopped midway while we were at it. I watched his face throughout the act with my hazy eyes, I must be half smiling (that stream of consciousness and dull thoughts running through my head). I now wonder if he suddenly awakened from feeling a sense of basic decency(to be fucking a deemed totally inebriated girl) and then he decided perhaps it was late, I should be getting rest and he should be heading off. He kissed me goodbye gently and closed the door behind me.
I got up from my bed feeling unaffected, having slightly sobered up little, the dull thought that I have fallen from grace yet again but taking care not to allow the full effect sunk into my head. I decided to head into the bathroom to take a shower instead of soiling my sheets further with the smell of cigarette smoke and (what I call) after party odour. I still have another night sleeping on that bed.
When I got out of the shower, I tried to set the alarm clock so as to wake myself up in five hours’ time as I had to attend Sunday Mass with my hosts. But this time, only to realize that my mobile phone and all my money in the evening vintage purse have gone missing with my misgivings…
I figured there is a time and place to worry about such things or not, if I do not place too much attachment on my material possessions and quite sleepily, I climbed into my bed and went into a deep slumber….
Ok, I have been meaning to talk about Manila. It has been at the back of my mind to mention that new beau of mine (slight yawn!!!), amidst a few other verbal and eye contact flirtations I had with other boys there (I really adore them!!!). Partying and dining with society's elites, thanks to my hosts' extensive contacts (themselves obviously in that charmed circle) where everyone seems to be owning extensive pieces of lands, casinos, hotels, golf courses, cemetaries and being involved in developing island resorts, the best parts of town in the form of shopping malls and quality residential estates or involved in politics, it all seemed very feudal. I led a rather charmed life there but not for too long... abracadebra! I am back in my reality, a salaried professional working class that always look slightly tired without the make-up on.
Let's call my new beau, Ted. Ted has absolutely nothing to charm me at first sight, in looks and in aura. If V and B were to see him, they would go really,"yeee..... P, what is wrong with you?" Actually quite rightly so, except when we started getting hot and heavy, I was not in the best frame of mind. But then again, outer appearance has never been my priority when I get attracted to a man. In fact, good looks to me are a bonus but not vital in the equation.
Come to think of it, my very first boyfriend (when I was thirteen) was the ugliest piece of shit I have ever had. He was ugly inside out. I could never look him in the face but was too nice and sweet then to admit to him (when he asked) why I never eye him when we spoke. I didn't know what I had unwittingly got myself into (and should I not be relieved finally when he decided to ditch me but not upfront; got his girlfriend to ring me up instead. I was so being played out!).
But even now, I never feel that it is my place to call someone ugly (unless of course, it comes in a double package of being undesirable both in character and in outer appearance). I cannot help being old fashioned that way... Ugly to me is still quite a harsh and cruel word although funnily, I instinctively spot the facial imperfections of humankind (since I was five) with the precision of a comestic surgeon and deemed that there is always some work that could be done to fix one's face to achieve a certain level of facial "perfection"...
In my own instance, I would like to shrink my face to a nice almond shape...
I have only had two peers in my experience that I cannot find any "fault" in their looks- one being B and another is a girl that I was acquainted to by the name of J some 12 years ago. I was enthralled by her beauty as with everyone at the beach. We could not take our eyes off her. She is the prettiest girl that I have ever met in real life back then...
Now, let's get back on track.
****
I don’t know how it happened. I think it must have started at the Embassy Bar on that Saturday night. Earlier in the day, my hosts have informed me that Ted would like to take me out to dine and have a good night out. My hosts introduced us quite casually the night before at a party when he was semi-drunk. I didn’t think we made a huge impression for each other although as usual, I remembered almost everyone’s names. So comes the next day when the matter was broached lightly by my friend (the hostess) as we went for our girly shopping trip, she mentioned that Ted had rung that morning to ask for an introduction by her husband and had proposed to play host and take me on a date that night.
I declined. “But I came here to spend time with you,” I protested.
I decided that he could be invited to join us clubbing with my hosts and their other friends that night. My hosts and I have made these plans the night before and I was not about to change for someone that I barely knew. The more the merrier, I reckoned although I am hardly a groupie.
To cut the long story short, Ted came along with his two other male buddies to the café and sat at the next table from ours consisting of my hosts and their other friends, all belonging to society prominence before we headed to the chic and exclusive Embassy Bar (where my local company were mostly VIP members, which they ironically sneer at the notion) in the heart of uptown Mercati. I realized that Ted and his gang did not belong to this Big Boys’/First Wives’ Club of my seated company. I happened to be seated at the far end of the table away from Ted and I was aware that my male host attempted to get me up to move over to Ted’s table for a quick re-introduction. Understanding too well of my social obligations that night since Ted made an appearance for me, I excused myself from the ladies who were engrossed in all their make-up artists and wedding couture talk.
So I sat down with the boys and was truly enjoying their company. Ted’s buddy, Guitar is quite the male version of me. I observed the social charms that he exuded reminiscent of my dynamics with B in stranger or public company. He played the spokesperson for Ted, obviously interested in me but somewhat tongue tied and awkward at the beginning (very unlike his tipsy state) and led the conversation. Hence at the beginning, it seemed like it was just the two of us bantering about business ideas. But like myself and me being myself, Guitar was quick to lead the conversation back to Ted for him to partake in the interaction while I too made sure that Ted’s other buddy, Ron was not excluded. In fact, he kept trying to sound me out about my receptiveness in living in the Philippines. As usual, my answers were always that I am open to new ideas and where money ideas could take me. It was at this juncture that I mentioned about my passion for the food and death business that I realized by accident that the boys are in the know as they were quite eager to assist me. I didn’t mention my greater ambitions, property development which I were only to realize later that their families are property moguls in their own right in this part of the world.
At the club, Ted naturally kept buying his friends and me drinks. I quite recalled two guys (with accents and mannerisms that suggest they were seemingly educated abroad) who started chatting me up at the VIP members’ lounge. I was in high enough spirits and was happy to chat to anyone that seemed remotely interesting. Observant Guitar was nimble enough to whisk me away as he enveloped his arm around my waist and turned me back in the opposite direction to the boys.
My hosts, who are not big party animals themselves decided to take leave for the night as their other friends were also leaving. I reckon it was also their way of giving Ted a chance to spend time with me. They bid me farewell and assured that I was in good hands and I should continue to enjoy myself and party on with great company- the gate and the house would be unlocked so I was free to return anytime I liked. By this time, I was sufficiently happy and tipsy. I quite remember spending most of my time with Guitar and Ron dancing away and two other girls (Ron’s friend; one pretty Chinese Filipino and her blond Eurasian cousin from Virginia); Ted continued to be missing in action, only to appear occasionally with more drinks in hands for everyone. Guitar had a great time letting his hands go free-willy around my waist and I quite adore his manliness at that point in time. But as usual, I was aware of Ted’s interest and took care not to induce an awkward situation that resulted in a run in between the two buddies.
When Ted returned to join us finally perhaps having taken enough alcohol to sum up some Dutch courage, I was ushered by the boys to head for the commoners’ dance floor. It was massive and crowded. I quite recalled dancing with the boys. In fact, I was sandwiched between Ted and Guitar, both taking turns to guide me by the waist lest I strayed away in the crowd. I think I must be at the peak of my tipsiness at this stage. We were also talking about Ted coming to visit Singapore and Australia and he said that he would go visit when I am around. I now vaguely recall that it must have been there and then that Ted and I snogged. I remembered being fully aware (as with all other illicit experiences) and the thing that went on in my light-headed mind was that I was yet again kissing another stranger man. It must be then that he started holding my hand. Then I just got higher and higher with the alcohol running through my bloodstream…
I vaguely remembered us pushing through the crowd to get out but I don’t recall entering the massive window tinted and chauffer-driven 4WD. I just remembered being in the 4WD. Guitar sat on the right passenger seat next to the chauffer, Ted and I in the second row of the three rows of seats behind the drivers’ seat and Ron sat in the back row. The boys asked me where I wanted to go. In my tipsy state, I made bold and said anywhere but home since I am on holidays and wouldn’t like to waste time sleeping. I think I said I would like to go to a karaoke and asked if there were any around. The chauffer must have driven us around town for a long time and I suspected in my drunken state, I was getting difficult because they mentioned that all the karaoke joints were closed and I insisted they were lying and I didn’t care and demanded they would have their ways to find me an open one.
At some stage, Ted was getting frustrated with my insistent and difficult ways (he was to say the next day that I was scary when I was drunk, reminding me of the time where my first French, W said the same thing- W never saw an angrier person, I hit him so hard and I was really losing it for him forgetting to pick up my cashmere cardigan with the diamante buttons at the pub while we were in the cab that the cabbie begged us to leave his car; guess I never get away with bad manners like my girlfriends often do with men and comes “high” time and when triggered by an imperfect situation, the alcohol pretty much dilutes my will to comport myself and behave like a well-bred lady and I betrayed the angry side of me) and said let’s go home since we didn’t have anywhere to go next.
I said no- I don’t want to go home. Even in my tipsy state, I observed and was aware that Guitar was smart enough (or rather, have enough emotional intelligence) to not reason with a drunkard. He used the tactic that I would have used with one. He tried placating me and went on to agree with me, “Yes, I know what P wants to do. She is on holidays and just would like to go anywhere for fun and not go home. Right P?”
“Yes.” I replied light-headedly. I liked it because for once, a guy was getting it with me.
Ted was getting helpless and perturbed by my tantrums and didn’t know how to proceed with the situation. So Guitar took charge and instructed the chauffer in Tagalog to proceed to his designated spot.
We arrived at our destination and for some strange reason and I now begin to wonder if it was a place owned by Guitar’s or Ted’s family, we parked at the reserved car spot below a chalet type hotel. Then we walked up the stairs that leads exclusively to the room. Without keys, we opened the door and I quite re-call it was a contemporary decorated sleek and clean hotel room with a huge plasma TV. I was piqued even in my tipsiness because I was still alert enough to realize that I could potentially have placed myself in a vulnerable position with three able-bodied men and a chauffer who would definitely be an accomplice in crime should shit happens. This is a country where money talks and anything could be possible. I have been placed in a precarious situation before and I was not about to be made a fool the third time and I grew really angry. My self-preservation instincts took me on the defensive mode.
“WHY are we coming to a hotel room? I DON”T want to go to a hotel room!” I demanded angrily. I turned to head down the stairs.
“But didn’t you want to sing karaoke? We can sing here!” Guitar tried cajoling me.
“This is NOT a karaoke!” I was getting very aggravated and walked down the stairs.
The guys followed suit and we got back to the car.
“Alright, alright, we’ll go somewhere.” Guitar continued to appease me.
Then someone must’ve decided that everyone should perhaps have supper and we proceeded to a Chinese restaurant.
We got seated in the restaurant and it was then I realized that one of the bows of my new shoes has gone missing. I think I must be beyond consolation at the sight of my imperfection. At this time, I was also well aware that I have also lost my beautiful diamante hair comb tucked into my hair. I tried my darnest to tame my disheveled hair down to look at least half decent. I pulled out my imperfect shoe and slapped it on the table. I needed it fixed and for the imperfection to be undone- the panic attack within me set in once more as I felt that I was losing control of my life and me. It did not help that the alcohol in my system was magnifying my loss and heightening my emotions. I could not bear the sight and my loss any further.
“Fix it! Fix my shoe, baby,” I demanded Ted before the guys.
“Look, what’s happen to my shoes! Do something about it! I cannot have shoes that look like this! I want my bow back!”
“I can’t! The shops are closed now and it’s 5 a.m in the morning!” Ted sounded so exasperated and it almost seemed like he was just about to cry or walk out on me.
Guitar stepped in and again tried appeasing me again.
“We’ll take you shopping tomorrow. We’ll go to Ferragamo and Ted will buy you the bow clips and shoes with bows. And then we’ll take you for a foot massage. Don’t worry about it now!”
The thought of wearing Ferragamo shoes further piqued me since they never fitted me well and the pair I bought in New York has only given me the most discomfort than any of the cheap shoes that I have ever bought in my life!
“No, I want my CHEAP shoe fixed!” I insisted again.
Poor Ted repeatedly said he couldn’t because it was too late. He was being put at his wits’ end.
At some point, Guitar in his over zealousness to sell his friend’s strengths to me and also to placate me, added, “… Ted will make you happy….”
The alcohol really got into me at this stage and the idea of him having the audacity to make such a big statement triggered the bitterness and deep-seated anger and melancholy within my dark soul.
“Ted can NEVER make me happy!” I spat the words out contemptuously.
Ted got hurt and offended and stormed out of the restaurant. I suspect it was more of a case that a girl before his male buddies had bruised his ego than he seriously cared that he couldn’t make me happy.
“Look you have upset Ted. Go after him!” I detected that slightly patronizing tone in Guitar’s s voice of someone not taking a deemed drunkard too seriously, combined with slight amusement of “lovers’ tiff” being acted before him.
My social instincts knew the wiser for me not to offend my suitor and I needed to do some social redemption here. I discerned that Ted was probably a hot- blooded person but he was really an easily placated man. It would definitely save his face before his two buddies if I bothered to come after him. So I went after him in my tipsy state, still quite alert enough to be worrying about my own safety wandering in the dark outside although I knew our chauffer was waiting outside.
Times like this, I find it highly amusing to play the role of the doormat taking the humble pie but it was quite refreshing for a change, really for laughter and self-preservation’s sake.
I found Ted standing outside one of the closed shops about ten metres away from the restaurant. I think he was trying to cool himself down.
I came up to him and hugged him. I saw his face brightened up.
“Oh baby, come back! Don’t be angry with me.” I whined.
And then we kissed and made up.
“Let me take you home. It is getting really late. It’s 5.30 in the morning,” he said affectionately.
“Nooooooooo…. I want to spend more time with you.” I whispered into his ear in that semi-whiney tone. Ted looked placated.
We walked back to the restaurant. The strap of my green dress kept falling off my shoulder and he pulled it back up a few times as I walked in a haphazard manner holding his hand.
“Fix yourself up.” He spoke in his semi-authoritative/ chauvinistic tone when we got back to our dining table where his buddies were. I knew he wanted to re-gain some of his lost dignity before the boys and I ignored him, half smiling in my dreamy state, my mind has now wandered to be reminded of B. He sounded just like B knuckle-rapping me whenever my bra strap or strap is showing, or off my shoulder or my cleavage (which isn’t very much without bra aids) are peeping at a top with an overly plunging neckline. B has this protective instinct for me, especially when we are met by preying stares of lecherous men. In my head, I was getting amused. He pulled my strap up finally after its refusal to obey my vague attempt at restoring it back on my shoulder. Then he went on to pull at the hem of my dress under the table by making sure it was falling neatly on my lap so that I wasn’t too exposed. But really, the length of the dress had fallen nicely and appropriately at where it should be and I thought he was fussing over me.
It must have been at this juncture that Guitar proposed that Ron and himself would take leave. Ted could take me home.
“No! No one is to leave. If we went out together as a team, we leave together as a team!” I demanded.
It must be the work ethic in me- team orientation. But then again, I always have this thing with my friends when we have a big night out- I like to know that everyone is safe and sound and have managed to get home in one piece.
“We’re NOT a team!” Ted was exasperated.
At some stage, we all decided to head home together. Ted must have begged me to go home and to go and rest as he had to start work at 8.00am that Sunday morning at the casino owned by his and my host’s family. He would take me out tomorrow afternoon, Guitar and him must have promised. I told them to ring my hosts the next day instead to check with them on my social schedule. I too was getting tired by then and conceded to call it a night. We got into the car, Ted and I in our hugging, lovey-dovey state.
Back in the car, I slumped myself down on the middle row and propped my back up by leaning between the window and the seat where I sprawled the entire length of my body and rested my legs on Ted’s lap. In my tipsy bedroom eyes, I smiled at Ted seductively. He reciprocated the smile, his hands wandering up my legs under my dress. Then he slided his finger into my panties and started to give me pleasure…
When the chauffer finally dropped me off at the fancy address where I was putting up, Ted walked me to my room. I whispered that I wanted him to tuck me into bed. His friends and the chauffer waited in the car.
The rest was history as all would guess…
One thing though, he stopped midway while we were at it. I watched his face throughout the act with my hazy eyes, I must be half smiling (that stream of consciousness and dull thoughts running through my head). I now wonder if he suddenly awakened from feeling a sense of basic decency(to be fucking a deemed totally inebriated girl) and then he decided perhaps it was late, I should be getting rest and he should be heading off. He kissed me goodbye gently and closed the door behind me.
I got up from my bed feeling unaffected, having slightly sobered up little, the dull thought that I have fallen from grace yet again but taking care not to allow the full effect sunk into my head. I decided to head into the bathroom to take a shower instead of soiling my sheets further with the smell of cigarette smoke and (what I call) after party odour. I still have another night sleeping on that bed.
When I got out of the shower, I tried to set the alarm clock so as to wake myself up in five hours’ time as I had to attend Sunday Mass with my hosts. But this time, only to realize that my mobile phone and all my money in the evening vintage purse have gone missing with my misgivings…
I figured there is a time and place to worry about such things or not, if I do not place too much attachment on my material possessions and quite sleepily, I climbed into my bed and went into a deep slumber….
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