Flip Flops

Some notes on the weekend.

Friday night. These bastards! They can't keep a commitment no? Maybe I expected too much from people. Hey, as I said I'm still learning the rules of this bloody and ruthless game of dating and yeah, I learned one big lesson last Friday. And that is, I CAN HAVE FUN ALONE! (Does anybody notice the bitterness?) So I went to this Silom bar on my own, watched the drag show, and tried parading around the bar like I fucking owned it. I was utterly frustrated. Too many gorgeous but intimidating men! On my second glass of vodka I saw my not-so-favorite officemate in the crowd. This prompted me to make a quick dash out of the bar. It was only 12:30 am for crying out loud! So I asked the cab driver to bring me to S, which is a gay bar popular with the locals. There I found the place full of enchanting Thai gay men gobbling bottles of whiskey. Not surprisingly, the bar only serves whiskey and beer. The music is horrendous, but who cares if drool-worthy, skinny go-go boys are gyrating on several ledges. In no time I brazenly joined the table of a group of friends. Ok, let's end the story there.

Saturday night. A gay Filipino friend - who I shall refer to as J - wanted to see Khao San Road on a Saturday evening. As the self-proclaimed Queen of Khao San, I volunteered to show him around. We ended up having some beer and watching the crowd in that chaotic part of BKK. I decided of course to wear just flip flops to blend in with the back-packers that dominate the area. Anyway, I told J about my exciting visit to S the previous night. S is just a couple of blocks from Khao San. The fag wanted us to go there. Can you imagine me going inside a gay bar in my flip flops? As in tsinelas that I bought for 59 baht! But guess what, that's what I actually did. I swear, I could've died right there. But who cares, we were already inside, the boys were tempting, and everybody was drunk. I called on all the saints that nobody would ridicule me and my tsinelas. I ended up gorging four large bottles of Singha, the local beer, to help me forget of my crude appearance. Again, J and I joined the table of some Thai men and started having fun with some catchy Thai pop songs blasting from the speakers.

Sunday. All my plans of going back to Chinatown and doing my grocery shopping were ditched coz I had one of the most atrocious hang over in recent memory. Ugh.