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I went to Ko Chang, a big island off the east coast of Thailand (and a long way from any tsunamis). I stayed in a beach hut with three friends. I travelled down for the weekend, cos that is possible from singapore, if you don't mind spending half of the weekend travelling.
The anecdote starts with me beginning the journey to drunkenness and being highly encouraged by a) the standard of pre-party chatting background music b) the number of attractive, cool looking people and c) the fact that drugs had been procured and more were clearly easily procurable.
I head over to the loos. There is a queue there. In front of me in the queue is a girl. She turns and looks me straight in the eye and gives me one of those smiles. You know, those smiles.
Now this girl was very very hot. And if this was a bragging story you could all start to hate on me now. But because it's a farce it's okay for me to say that she was blatantly the single most attractive person at the party. (there were maybe 200 people there). Petite, curvy, blonde, tan, young, smily, stylish. Scandinavian. I'm not usually a fan of the whitebread scando style, but this girl had that something. And she'd given me THE SMILE.
And because I’m in Thailand, and because most of the other guys there are hippy student fucks with mud-brown clothing and even less seduction skills than style; and I’m like Gucci-d up and wearing a furry hat and like sticking out a mile in that crowd, I walk up to her and ask her her name. And she does THE SMILE again and we chat and she’s called Laura, and she’s going to be hanging out at this place all night. So I lean in and tell her I’ll see her later and she smiles again, and I give her my business card and tell her my mobile number is on that and she should call if she finds a good party.
The night progresses, and I don’t see her. We drink more and neck some nasty speed pills which fire me right up. I head right for the dancefloor which is full of lousy lousy dancers. And I go like Timberlake on their asses. Speed and alcohol is such a good dance combo. I’m inventing new moves left right and centre and people are copying them and they spread around the floor like mini virus epidemics and it’s fucking great.
I go over and chat to her briefly, cutting in front of two drooling and incapable scandic blokes who are doing their best but are no match for my ninja skills. I am ON FIRE. I learn she is from Finland which means I can talk about saunas. Saunas are sexy. This sets the tone appropriately.
Back to the dancefloor, champagne bottle aloft, it’s midnight madness and it’s all going right. Some german hippy offers us pills. We buy as many as we can and neck them. Fuck they’re strong but it doesn’t matter because we just dance more and better. I’m doing dance offs with every fool their that thinks they got moves and we all vibe off each other in that phoney but real ecstasy manner and it’s great. (but I’m still the best dancer there, and other people said so, so it must be true)
Then I spot her again, and there are two leering blokes in England football shirts bending over her and practically drooling in her ear. I catch her eye, crook a finger and nod towards the tables. She follows me.
And, yo, that was some serious JAMES BOND shit right there. I mean that doesn't happen in real life, does it? That crooking the finger thing?
We sit down and exchange desultory small talk leaning closer and closer. I’m entranced by her beauty and enthralled by the inevitable kiss that’s coming. I reach out and touch her face and it’s so soft and those lips are so plump and pink and coming towards me, and we touch.
And they’re great lips, soft, sensual, full of subtle little perambulations lighting up all my nerve ends.
On the other hand, my lips are the lips of Joey Deacon. Suddenly there is no motor control there. My tongue jabs and leaps, my lips mangle. It dawns on me that this is not a very good demonstration of kissing technique. Then, with utter horror I realize that I am no longer kissing her mouth but her nose.
Now probably at this moment, the right thing to do would be to pull away, look her in the eyes, smile wryly to indicate that we both know how stupid that was and then kiss her again, subtly, erotically and passionately.
But me, I crack up laughing and nearly fall off my chair because the whole thing is so ridiculous.
She: her face falls. She stands up. I stand up too, grab her and kiss her again. She gives it a chance, but there’s no magic there, and I know that’s the end of it right there.
I head back to the dancefloor. Seconds later I’m grabbed by some emotional Scandinavian gent who looks close to tears and he says something like “did you just take Laura outside?” I’m utterly bemused by this new development and just play it totally neutral by saying “Yeah, Laura’s just out there”. Minutes later I look over and she’s at a corner table with some bloke (could’ve been the emotional scandi, could’ve been anyone) snogging and groping away.
Me, I go neck more pills dance a crapload more. We meet some Parisian coke dealers in silly hats and some german hippies on liquid acid. We meet two girls from Brixton who run a troupe of strongmen in a traveling circus.
We hang out on a beach with two people called H and S. S is some kind of designer, Glaswegian, just moved to Bangkok. She’s far too cool for school and I think finds us a bit immature and stupid. H is from London and as far as I can work out is a professional freeloader. Which of course means he is a fucking good laugh. I try and persuade them all to do night swimming with me, but no one will, so I strip down to my pants alone and have a pathetic four minute swim before having to run back to the beach and don my clothing, only with wet salty pants on underneath. They all laugh at me.
Other stuff happened in Thailand, but it basically amounts to “we had a two day comedown then left” so I’ll leave it at that. |
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