Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Balcony
I have only been to the Balcony Bar at the along Orchard Road three times. I reckon its a good place for one to go if one is an insomniac or have run out of places to go when most of the clubs and bars are closed for the night. You see, it is open for 24 hours. A private smile always creeps up my face at the thought of The Balcony.
You see, each time I am there, I go with a different man. The type of man that is perhaps good for just a night. Well, maybe two.
And always the same couch.
*****
The first time, I've been to the Balcony, I was brought to this place by Dr. Jekyll & Hyde. It was after a night of club hopping with Harry. V and I had a chance meeting with my long time friend Harry which led to our merger of partying with him and his entourage, which of course led to my acquaintance of the Dr. Jekyll & Hyde.
At the end of the clubbing, our last stop being MOS, everyone was sufficiently drunk and happy. At this stage, V had buggered off with one of Harry's colleague and we had lose one or two of the entourage members along the way. Then it was down to us three- Harry, the Jekyll & Hyde and me.
By the time, we thrown ourselves comfortably back on the couch, Harry had dozed off before our French bottle of sauvignon blanc arrived. Dr Jekyll & Hyde and I took the liberty to consume the entire bottle of alcohol at Harry's expense to increase our Dutch courage, perhaps so we could make out more pleasurably before the watchful eyes of the bartenders.
I recall vaguely his whispering sweet nothings in my ears and my legs slung across his lap and then as the alcohol was racing in my blood stream, so was the “wonderful” display of my less than discrete behaviour. I was sitting on him or was it riding on him?
Came the morning light, we decided to continue with our merry-making and sojourned to his apartment.
*****
During the second time, it was again an after MOS-night-of-clubbing story. This time it was with the Koran.
I was clubbing and drinking with V and her boyfriend when the Koran came to join us at the MOS. I think he just came from yet another wedding that he had attended. Towards the end of the night, it was down to us two. Yet again.
At the dance floor, we danced, flirted, laughed and kissed as he twirled me around. We, or at least I have consumed copious amounts of alcohol by that stage. Think he mentioned something about no one at home, meaning we could sojourn as the next destination once we wrap up on the dance floor. Come to think of it, I now recall that we left before the last song.
I was disinclined to fuck another man for three good reasons at that moment. A) I wasn't mentally prepared- didn't expect the Koran and I to kiss, let alone fuck; B) I just got together with the Old Boy; C) I had my period.
As an insomniac with a reluctance to be in my own company, I suggested the Balcony. So the Balcony we went. The Koran and I sat on the very same couch that Dr. Jekyll & Hyde made out on. Very civilised we were and canned green tea was all we ordered. I suspected the Koran and I have similar intentions to sober up lest we did something that we both regret. In fact, he tried to let me know him a little better and we had a decent and nice conversation about the callousness of our coming of age, perhaps part alluding to our earlier behaviours. After all, it was only the second time we met.
I don't remember if we kissed again at the Balcony. We must have, maybe during the time where he opened up about himself and the car accident he got into and the works that he had to go through from constructive plastic surgery to counselling. If we did, I must've have initiated it for him to limit his getting into such heavy conversation with me. I wasn't in the mood for anything heavy since I was having too much self-indulgent pain from my recent break up with DL and was in that phase of excessive indulgence of merry making, like the only thing that counted at the moment was me and only me. I didn't need to know about other people's problems.
When the darkness of the night has broken light into a new day, I got up and suggested it was time for us to leave. We got out of the establishment and I was inclined to get into the first cab queuing outside to get us home pronto. Instead, he suggested we took a long walk as he lit up his ciggie, perhaps to prolong the conclusion of our outing.
I figured I wasn't going to see him again. Surprisingly, it didn't ended there.
He came back for me for more.
So there, the Koran became instrumental in altering and shaping the events and my emotions of 2008. I didn't factor in his existence, let alone the impact he could have on my world and the Old Boy's.
*****
Post “Ballantine”, I made Big M take me out for a drink. I wasn't going to let him get away from having fun with me and me not doing what was the original intention of our outing.
So there we were. On that very same couch again where the Dr. Jekyll & Hyde and I first made out.
Big M and I chatted and as usual, his hands took the liberty to be wrapped around me. I was needing some male contact there and then, what with my need to get over the Old Boy at the fastest possibility. I slung my legs over his lap again and laid on his chest. I wanted to feel the warmth and physical proximity of a man once more. Any man was better than no man for that night. In my mind, I had to get over the Old Boy who had texted to say that he had gone to Malaysia with the domestics for the week and by the time, he returned to Singapore, I was on my grand pilgrimage to Nepal. He would talk to me when I get back which was in about 45 days' time. I wasn't sure how and what I would feel after. The fear that I wouldn't get well after was a gripping scary prospect for me but then to have completely be over this man, I couldn't let him again just yet and the mere idea was equally painful.
Big M took the liberty to let his hand wander secretly under my dress where his finger was wriggling its way to my private feminine passage way. I was enjoying it. It was ages at this stage that I was intimate with anyone.
No, I wasn't drunk. I was sober as hell. I wanted to make sure I was so I knew I could be with another man in my clear state of mind and I wasn't about to let the Old Boy affect my ability to get over him, be it physically or emotionally. At least, it was a start that I could handle the physical bit.
Finally, we got up to leave. As we strolled hand in hand like a couple would do, Big M in a concealed curious way asked why I would be the way I was that night with him. He tried to get answer out of me and attempted to allude to how I might be somewhat special to him.
Really, I wasn't in the mood.
Too many times, I heard this stuff from men and their attempts to place themselves in that special spot in my heart.
Well, let them be.
All I knew that night was I needed loving so I could distract myself and the Old Boy from my mind. I was a person dying from heartache and pain inside. The rest didn't really matter.
*****
Three trysts, one place, one couch.
The first, with a stranger, Dr. J& H whom I was fast falling in love with by the break of dawn.
He broke my heart but later. In the midst, in the shady cyber alleyway of my life, I met the Old Boy whom I initially mistook as Dr. J & H. There, the story began.
I fell in love once more. With the Old Boy. But in my restless wayward ways, I was a rebellious and polygamous soul. I had yet another tryst at the Balcony. This time, with the Koran. An accidental, unpremeditated rendezvous but I “disappointed” the Old Boy, nonetheless. My obstinate ways was to trigger more heartaches for myself to again and were to alter my dynamics with the Old Boy permanently later on, unbeknownst to me then just yet. In hindsight, now I do.
Tryst three- it was my poor excuse at getting over the Old Boy. Big M was my last fling since albeit yet another accidental one (brought over by his opportunistic carnal attempts at "Ballantine"). Also a married man.
I think and I hope it will be my last midnight visit to the Balcony.
I was always told by my mum that things happen in threes. Good or bad. I
Memories accompanying my secret smile whenever I pass that place is all I should ever keep. But no more. Think I am done with the Balcony.
I have only been to the Balcony Bar at the along Orchard Road three times. I reckon its a good place for one to go if one is an insomniac or have run out of places to go when most of the clubs and bars are closed for the night. You see, it is open for 24 hours. A private smile always creeps up my face at the thought of The Balcony.
You see, each time I am there, I go with a different man. The type of man that is perhaps good for just a night. Well, maybe two.
And always the same couch.
*****
The first time, I've been to the Balcony, I was brought to this place by Dr. Jekyll & Hyde. It was after a night of club hopping with Harry. V and I had a chance meeting with my long time friend Harry which led to our merger of partying with him and his entourage, which of course led to my acquaintance of the Dr. Jekyll & Hyde.
At the end of the clubbing, our last stop being MOS, everyone was sufficiently drunk and happy. At this stage, V had buggered off with one of Harry's colleague and we had lose one or two of the entourage members along the way. Then it was down to us three- Harry, the Jekyll & Hyde and me.
By the time, we thrown ourselves comfortably back on the couch, Harry had dozed off before our French bottle of sauvignon blanc arrived. Dr Jekyll & Hyde and I took the liberty to consume the entire bottle of alcohol at Harry's expense to increase our Dutch courage, perhaps so we could make out more pleasurably before the watchful eyes of the bartenders.
I recall vaguely his whispering sweet nothings in my ears and my legs slung across his lap and then as the alcohol was racing in my blood stream, so was the “wonderful” display of my less than discrete behaviour. I was sitting on him or was it riding on him?
Came the morning light, we decided to continue with our merry-making and sojourned to his apartment.
*****
During the second time, it was again an after MOS-night-of-clubbing story. This time it was with the Koran.
I was clubbing and drinking with V and her boyfriend when the Koran came to join us at the MOS. I think he just came from yet another wedding that he had attended. Towards the end of the night, it was down to us two. Yet again.
At the dance floor, we danced, flirted, laughed and kissed as he twirled me around. We, or at least I have consumed copious amounts of alcohol by that stage. Think he mentioned something about no one at home, meaning we could sojourn as the next destination once we wrap up on the dance floor. Come to think of it, I now recall that we left before the last song.
I was disinclined to fuck another man for three good reasons at that moment. A) I wasn't mentally prepared- didn't expect the Koran and I to kiss, let alone fuck; B) I just got together with the Old Boy; C) I had my period.
As an insomniac with a reluctance to be in my own company, I suggested the Balcony. So the Balcony we went. The Koran and I sat on the very same couch that Dr. Jekyll & Hyde made out on. Very civilised we were and canned green tea was all we ordered. I suspected the Koran and I have similar intentions to sober up lest we did something that we both regret. In fact, he tried to let me know him a little better and we had a decent and nice conversation about the callousness of our coming of age, perhaps part alluding to our earlier behaviours. After all, it was only the second time we met.
I don't remember if we kissed again at the Balcony. We must have, maybe during the time where he opened up about himself and the car accident he got into and the works that he had to go through from constructive plastic surgery to counselling. If we did, I must've have initiated it for him to limit his getting into such heavy conversation with me. I wasn't in the mood for anything heavy since I was having too much self-indulgent pain from my recent break up with DL and was in that phase of excessive indulgence of merry making, like the only thing that counted at the moment was me and only me. I didn't need to know about other people's problems.
When the darkness of the night has broken light into a new day, I got up and suggested it was time for us to leave. We got out of the establishment and I was inclined to get into the first cab queuing outside to get us home pronto. Instead, he suggested we took a long walk as he lit up his ciggie, perhaps to prolong the conclusion of our outing.
I figured I wasn't going to see him again. Surprisingly, it didn't ended there.
He came back for me for more.
So there, the Koran became instrumental in altering and shaping the events and my emotions of 2008. I didn't factor in his existence, let alone the impact he could have on my world and the Old Boy's.
*****
Post “Ballantine”, I made Big M take me out for a drink. I wasn't going to let him get away from having fun with me and me not doing what was the original intention of our outing.
So there we were. On that very same couch again where the Dr. Jekyll & Hyde and I first made out.
Big M and I chatted and as usual, his hands took the liberty to be wrapped around me. I was needing some male contact there and then, what with my need to get over the Old Boy at the fastest possibility. I slung my legs over his lap again and laid on his chest. I wanted to feel the warmth and physical proximity of a man once more. Any man was better than no man for that night. In my mind, I had to get over the Old Boy who had texted to say that he had gone to Malaysia with the domestics for the week and by the time, he returned to Singapore, I was on my grand pilgrimage to Nepal. He would talk to me when I get back which was in about 45 days' time. I wasn't sure how and what I would feel after. The fear that I wouldn't get well after was a gripping scary prospect for me but then to have completely be over this man, I couldn't let him again just yet and the mere idea was equally painful.
Big M took the liberty to let his hand wander secretly under my dress where his finger was wriggling its way to my private feminine passage way. I was enjoying it. It was ages at this stage that I was intimate with anyone.
No, I wasn't drunk. I was sober as hell. I wanted to make sure I was so I knew I could be with another man in my clear state of mind and I wasn't about to let the Old Boy affect my ability to get over him, be it physically or emotionally. At least, it was a start that I could handle the physical bit.
Finally, we got up to leave. As we strolled hand in hand like a couple would do, Big M in a concealed curious way asked why I would be the way I was that night with him. He tried to get answer out of me and attempted to allude to how I might be somewhat special to him.
Really, I wasn't in the mood.
Too many times, I heard this stuff from men and their attempts to place themselves in that special spot in my heart.
Well, let them be.
All I knew that night was I needed loving so I could distract myself and the Old Boy from my mind. I was a person dying from heartache and pain inside. The rest didn't really matter.
*****
Three trysts, one place, one couch.
The first, with a stranger, Dr. J& H whom I was fast falling in love with by the break of dawn.
He broke my heart but later. In the midst, in the shady cyber alleyway of my life, I met the Old Boy whom I initially mistook as Dr. J & H. There, the story began.
I fell in love once more. With the Old Boy. But in my restless wayward ways, I was a rebellious and polygamous soul. I had yet another tryst at the Balcony. This time, with the Koran. An accidental, unpremeditated rendezvous but I “disappointed” the Old Boy, nonetheless. My obstinate ways was to trigger more heartaches for myself to again and were to alter my dynamics with the Old Boy permanently later on, unbeknownst to me then just yet. In hindsight, now I do.
Tryst three- it was my poor excuse at getting over the Old Boy. Big M was my last fling since albeit yet another accidental one (brought over by his opportunistic carnal attempts at "Ballantine"). Also a married man.
I think and I hope it will be my last midnight visit to the Balcony.
I was always told by my mum that things happen in threes. Good or bad. I
Memories accompanying my secret smile whenever I pass that place is all I should ever keep. But no more. Think I am done with the Balcony.
