NYE - Phuket 2005/2006

E@L has turned off his phone and missed two crucial messages from Spike. So he is going it alone in Phuket on New Years Eve. Can he manage to shake off his hatred of all things human and manage to enjoy himself? For once, for your entertainment? Can he stop whingeing for one night? Is his attitude merely the results of an arrogant petulance and a much-denied loneliness?


At the Rock Hard Cafe (damn it, they don't make those excellent shirts in his FBO size), Spike's lady friend from the other night recognizes him and joins him. She has red underwear on. That is all. E@L's companion of the previous adventure has gone home to be with her 9 year old daughter for NYE. Would E@L mind if she joined him instead? Spike has a cold - she mimics him sneezing and blowing his nose - and said he won't be coming out.

She goes to dance on stage. E@L has already forgotten her name. Let's call her Noi. Unlike the typical listless uncordinated gyrations of many of the "dancers", Noi has the rhythm of the seas in her movement, the fluidity of a thousand waves rippling through her body. E@L can't help but try to imagine her in the throes of orgasm. E@L can't help but hope to see her have a real (fake) one under his tender ministrations tonight. Spike will never know. [Unless he reads this.]

When she returns he pays the double [1000baht, Happy New Year!] bar-fine and she goes to get dressed; it is 10pm, there is party down in Soi Easy and she wants to join the festivities with her friends where she used to work.

The Viking Bar is one of the typical small drinks-stations in these bar sois. Five or six girls stand at the benches outside and three more inside the square of the bar and try and entice customers as they walk past with such original cries as, "Hello, welcooooome!" and "You wan drink?" A large disc of teak peppered with nail-heads rests on a stand at a level suitable for the eye-risking nail/hammer game (one hit at a time with the narrow end of the hammer, first to drive the nail all the way in wins).

Everybody squeals as they recognize Noi, an old campaigner obviously, but what girl here hasn't been around? We buy drinks - she white wine, E@L Songsam rum and coke - but she immediately runs around to the entrance of the bar and climbs on the central circular plinth where a stainless-steel pole rises to the ceiling. Yes - the pole dancing has re-commenced. People are spraying liquid rubber streams at each other (100 baht a can) and some wag squirts a direct hit on her fanny. She screams with delight and keeps dancing, spanking her tight buttocks. Eventually, after teasing with undoing her belt and fly for something like 20 minutes, she removes her jeans entirely to dance ever more freely, ever more suggestively in those red underpants. A drunken guy from the other side of the bar cannot resist and staggers to join her on the tiny stage, but Lily Von-Schtupp-like, she has this guy's measure and keeps him under control with a jolly "get your frigging feet off the stage" routine...

E@L laughs across at another couple of Westerners, Aussies, it turns out, and shrugs his shoulders with a suggestion of forebearance (no not that, where is my Thesaurus?). His girl is in the limelight, she loves it.

In the depths of the timeless evening, some unique point in time never to be repeated, there are rumours of E@L up the podium as well, shirt off, swinging it over his head, gyrating with all of his hidden skills - the cameras are firing again, irreplacable movies are being made, people are shaking their heads in disbelief - can this hilarious party animal REALLY be the same sad misanthropist of the last few posts?

As the night progresses a succession of barking noises from long strings of small firecrackers punctuate the evening into staccatto gunfire of sparks and flying burning paper. Clouds of phosphorus/cordite(?) fumes fill the bars. The drunken guy from earlier dances through the sparkling explosions - it is a Bacchanal tonight! - and not to be outdone, when the next set of firecrackers burst aloud nearby, E@L follows suit, his bare calves taking hits of flaming papers and hot sparks but he hardly feels it. He does it again, till the density to the fumes tightens his bronchials and he falls away, coughing, laughing into Noi's hugs and kisses.

One of the bar-girls has her 4 year old daughter there, on the shoulders of the male bar-manager, bopping rap-style on the podium, her head taking toy bumps from the many dangling balloons, she too squeals with laugher. Everybody is popping the ballons now, pricking them with tooth-picks. More cans of spray goo emerge, as do small canons of exploding sparkle-paper and E@L takes several direct hits, one from the 4 year old assisted by Noi, to his bare-chest. Everybody is laughing, dancing, hugging...

It's pop, pop, pop of the ballons, crackcrackcrackcrack of the firecrackers and as midnight hits almost too soon - out of nowhere out of notime - it's BOOM BOOM as Soi Bangla sets off retinal burning fireworks right over our heads. The firecracker rolls are being lit continuously all through the area. It is deafening! A roll costs 300baht, there are dozens stilll for sale but E@L rubs his legs and coughs again - no thanks, enough is enough.

Great cries of "Sawasdee pee moi," ring down the streets and sois... (or something close to that!) Happy New Year!

Noi and E@L head for tonight's home in a cheapish tuk-tuk (100 baht on the second negotiation, down from 300baht)... and fall fast asleep as soon as heads hit pillows... the mystery of her orgasm, let alone his, never revealed.

E@L (spell-checking to be done later)


Posted by: expat@large on Jan 01, 06 | 3:00 pm | Profile


Tom Holds Up Card.
9.2 on the GoatDance Index.
Points deducted for linear time-line, which suggest you may remember what happenened.

Posted by: Tom on Jan 01, 06 | 8:32 pm

Bows to crowd... thanks mum and dad...

Yet another pb...


Yep, not crashingly amnesiac drunk for once - see last 7 years in HK - actually had a diet pepsi in there somewhere...

Getting old, but only in partial denial.


Posted by: expat@large on Jan 01, 06 | 9:22 pm

Sad, E@L but I gotta call 'em like I see 'em. Linear plotline, .5 off. It's the rules, I can't bend them. :>

Posted by: Tom on Jan 02, 06 | 2:58 am

I am reacting against the totally non-linear novel i am reading. Gravity's Rainbow... parabolic.

Posted by: expat@large on Jan 02, 06 | 10:59 am


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