|i could go on for 40 days and 40 nights about my blog title and bore you to bits and pieces with 10,000 different ideas i actually had for the name of this blog but because of the 500 characters limit that is imposed upon this mechanism which, by the way, is supposed to promote free speech, i shall shorten it to just two words basically describing what the hell this is all about and who this hell belongs to.|
Saturday, May 10, 2008
how i ended up kissing Pangkeng
i love to socialize with people in general. i really do. the rewards that come from it are endless. to begin with. it broadens horizons, introduces new perspectives, and if it's a guy, gives one a potshot of a chance at sex ('Speaking of bed linen, why don't we test out the 'bed linen' at MY place?'). the only problem i have with socializing is that i hate it when it all goes wrong. i have an avid fear of conversations becoming boring. this is especially so with old friends whom i know them inside out. i fear the boring. so much so that i will never ever been seen doing anything uninteresting. whenever i'm out, i'm always armed with my cigarettes, a paperback, my laptop and if i'm utterly bored, i'll even bring along a vibrating dildo.
point is, i realize that i can't spend too much time with people in general because i'm afraid of becoming stale material. i'm scared of having nothing interesting to say. in my books, either i have something witty, punny or interesting to say, or i don't say it at all. this is regardless of whether they are close friends or simply just acquaintances. which perhaps might explain why i eagerly celebrate the concept of the One Night Stand so much. there's a purpose in meeting for the two people who agree on the One Night Stand, it's mostly fuss-free and most importantly, with no strings attached (it's not called a Two Night Stand for a reason, no?). the person you're meeting prolly knows as much about you as you are familiar with your healthy gallbladder.
obviously, this fear of becoming a boring person has sorta tainted the way i handle things in life. i abstain from outings that have a chance of painting the town a monotone shade of grey. every single detail about me has something interesting about it. you can ask me about anything i'm wearing at a single point of time and i can tell you a long story about it. most importantly though and the most relevant point i want to make with regards to this blog post, is that i seldom am keen to go for long overseas trips with small groups of friends. mostly i dread the moments when all of us are spent and exhausted with nothing interesting to say other than mentioning random non sequitur in the middle of conversations. like i said, when i have nothing interesting to say, i just don't say it at all.
when i have nothing to say at all, i'm about as exciting as a library reading of the vibrating dildo that i carry in my bag all the time. of course, you do know that i'm joking about the dildo in my bag right? why put a dildo in your bag when you can put it up your.... well you get the point.
'Let's go to KL!' Kegal Laughs suggested one evening when we were transitioning from the afternoon shift to the night.
'Let's go have sex!' i replied sarcastically, half-immersed in cleaning up the mess that the afternoon staff have left around while pondering whether she was serious about Kuala Lumpur.
the idea of Kuala Lumpur had been thrown around amongst my colleagues for quite an extensive period of time. in fact, several months ago, Kegal Laughs had brought up the idea of a weekend clubbing holiday in KL, Malaysia. we swore to get wasted and hopefully, laid. of course, as with most random outings that you bring up at work, they get swept away faster than you can say 'housekeeping'. and thus, the nonchalant and equally sarcastic reply to Kegal Laugh's weekend getaway.
'*kegal laugh* No! I'm serious about it this time!' she tried again to arouse my interest. if i were a heterosexual male, then arouse my interest it did.
'Okay then, you give me the name of a hotel that you would like to stay, how long and when!'
true to her word, she got back to me with an answer within ten minutes. and thus, like the moment spermatozoa comes into contact with the egg, a foetus of a plan was conceived and put into action. and grow into a baby of a holiday it did. we found people who were willing to come along for this trip. Pangkeng, whom you guys have already been so fondly introduced to, you already know. he's coarse, he's vulgar, he's perverse and he's a real brute. but beneath that ugly exterior of his, he has a heart of gold. he's the only guy whom i know that would bring my patients to bathe in the assisted showers at 3am in the middle of the night.
Kegal Laughs, our resident nymphomaniac was of course also headed for this trip. she practices what she preaches whenever she giggles or chortles. we tried an exercise once to see whose mouth was bigger by stacked fingers (our own) into our mouths (our own). she managed four before gagging on saliva.
'And *kegal cough* kegal cough* that's what i like latinos! *kegal cough*' she exclaimed unabashedly.
the last person who agreed to go on this trip is someone that i have yet to officially introduce. she works with me on the permanent night shifts and is quite the object of Pangkeng's perverse affections. let's call her The Fiddy Cent Model. if you have watched 50 Cent MTVs such as 'Just a Li'll Bit' or 'Candy Shop', you'll realize that most of his MTV model are scantily clad in g-strings that provide as much coverage as a newspaper in a thunderstorm. the reason why i label her as that is solely because she has a posterior the size of.... ehrm... let's just say that you could write your thesis on it and still have enough space for referencing and appendix A & B. she's a meena with a pretty face and an even prettier *points finger*.
the common points amongst the four of us were that we drank, we smoked and we had the combined morals of a fake Coach bag. it was with this motley crew of people that i took the brave step into the social unknown by making this holiday trip with them. i sorta guessed that i would start keeping silent by the second day of the trip when i had nothing witty to say to them. i mena, i work with Pangkeng and the Fiddy Cent model on my permanent night shifts. so i've talked a lot with them during our smoke breaks and over supper in the ward. none the less, we made plans. actually, it's more like a singular plan.
the only thing we managed to agree on was that we wanted this trip to be cheap. and Kegal Laugh suggested the most convenient and affordable accommodation in the form of one Puduraya Hotel. situated directly above the Pudu Coach Station, it was the exact place where we would arrive and depart in KL. 'It's a three star hotel!' Kegal Laughs stated with much pride and gusto. this basically sent shudders down my spine and visuals of people waking up in a bathtub filled with ice. a note beside them would state 'Seek medical treatment immediately, we have just removed your kidneys! :)'
and thus we met at the train station leading to the buses that would take us straight into the heart of Malaysia itself. this was right after a night shift and all of us were looking forward to the five hour coach ride to KL. to avoid boring you with the details and summarize the travelling bits to KL, this is a picture of Kegal Laughs without the make-up and me who have just woken up when the coach stopped at one of the rest stations along the Malaysia highway. this marked the beginning of us smoking two pack of cigarettes within a day while in Malaysia.
but like i said, avoid the boring bits. we reached KL with all our limbs and luggages intact. the coach dropped us off at the road that led to the Pudu coach station. the afternoon sun beat down on us like bright Christmas lights and the traffic drifted past us at the speed the same Christmas lights would change their flashing patterns. we were constantly touted by men offering cab rides and coaches to various parts of KL and Malaysia. i was half expecting someone to sell me tupperware or sex. it wasn't when we reached the hotel that i should have known not to be surprised if someone did offer me a social escort for the evening.
opening the hotel room door, we found what resembled our local chain of love hotels named 'Hotel 81'. we had adjoining rooms that were connected by a short hallway that last no more than two foot steps. the beds looked decent but felt really scratchy when you laid on them. the bath tub where i might have my kidneys removed had yellowed stains in them. there was water dripping from the faucets. and the toilet had a lighting that was reminiscent of a B-grade horror movie.
yep, we ended up staying in a love hotel it seems. what confirmed my suspicions of the Puduraya hotel being a love hotel was a lift trip down the lobby after we had settled down. we entered the creaky life accompanied by one man and a woman. the man looking like your average Chinese Malaysian guy. plain and non-descriptive. the woman however, was dressed to the nines. she had bouncy shampoo commercial hair, thick make-up. her boobs were that type that said 'Helloooo! I'm Helga the milkmaid!' she carried an LV clutch in one hand and balanced a pair of Gucci sunglasses on that bouncy coif of hers. the give away that a 'business transaction' of sorts was done between the both of them was that they never said a single word while in the elevator. there was this awkward sexual silence in the lift as we contemplated about the man who paid for sexual services.
part of the itinerary of our trip was actually to get as smashed and as wasted as it was financially possible. need i remind you that we were on a shoestring budget. from talking to the cab drivers that we hired during the day, we discovered that the taxi fares at night can cost quite the nuclear bomb. so we decided to make do with drinks in the love hotel. in preparation for this, we bought ourselves hard liquor. a bottle of Absolut, a Bacardi and a Johnnie Walker Black Label. the girls bought mixers to accompany the drinks. Pangkeng who's a beer kinda guy, partook of the mixers as well. i like my drinks and things neat and untainted.
of course, alcohol does really bizarre things to people. for one, they lose their inhibitions and starting acting out. some get really horny (Pangkeng). some get crazy (The Fiddy Cent Model). some just keep quiet and deliver witty quotes at the most appropriate moments like Kegal Laughs and me. for some reason though, drunk people like to play games during drinks. one fine example since we didn't have any playing cards would be the classic Truth or Dare. Kegal Laughs and i agreed that we would rather take the dare than the truth as we both had a lot to hide. i, for one, have my sexual orientation to consider. Kegal Laughs i presume, had her alternate lifestyle to consider.
none the less, one of the dares that we attempted was the famous 'Kiss (insert person's name of the same gender) on the lips. the dare was that i had to kiss Pangkeng on the lips. if i did so, then Kegal Laughs and The Fiddy Cent Model would do the same as well. i mean, it was easy as lesbian porn for the two beautiful girls. Pangkeng who was ready for anything that was even remotely close to being sexual was all ready for it. gay little me still had my social inhibitions to consider. and to crown it off, i wasn't that drunk yet despite five glasses of Johnnie Walkers.
it's one thing to kiss a random stranger or a gay guy. but to kiss a good friend and colleague of yours is a totally different ball game. it would have been more palatable if Pangkeng was more pleasing to the eye. bless his soul and all, but it was while looking at Pangkeng's acne that i hesitated a little. the bulbous little things seemed to talk on a life of his own. Pangkeng was a tad irritated with my hesitation and tried pulling me forward with his brute-like arms. but gym-trained arms almost always trump brute arms. i pushed him back.
'If we're going to do this, we'll do it on my terms!' i warned him.
at the background, the girls were poised with their cameras and chanting 'Dare! Dare! Dare! Dare! Dare! Dare!' like a gaggle of pom-pom girls.
i swig one big gulp of Barcardi, took three puffs of a cigar that we had bought at one of the downtown stores and felt the immensive high that overcame me all of a sudden. of course, my alcholic-inspired mind interpreted it as a bunch of guts and courage. and thus i grabbed Pangkeng's shoulders, closed my eyes and took the plunge.
it was warm. and i didn't really enjoy it. a bit like kissing microwaved fish without the butter, spices and other flavouring ingredients. 'five seconds! five seconds!' the girls dared. and so it's official that i kissed Pangkeng on the lips for five seconds in the middle of KL. of course, the girls did the kiss on the lips for a full five seconds that verged on being French.
i fell asleep soon after. the good thing though is that we never mentioned the kiss again for the rest of the trip. and when we went back to work again, everything happened as if the kiss never happened.
i'm thinking that that's straight men for you.
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