Stay Gold, Ponyboy

I am travelling to KL today.

Last night there was an "incident" at Fusion, R's local bar. There had been a fight a-brewin' between a couple of Vietnamese men.

Some guy had spoken to some chick poorly. She then dobbed to some other guy who in turn got involved to pretect her honour or his face or some stupid thing.

Threats were made because each of them went off to collect their weapons and posses before reconvening. R knows one of the guys quite well and was been invited to attend in the role of back-up. This invitation was extended to me I I was dead keen.

Unfortunately I was at the doctor's getting my antibiotics (Stilnox chaser of course) when the rumble went down. God mustn't want me rumbling. Can't imagine why. I would have jumped at the chance to stand in Hai Anh's gang. I could be standing, therer look at another gang. One of his goons would look at me "What the fuck are you looking at potato?" and I would look back gormlessly while showtunes played in my head. Maybe even the theme tune from Oz. Either way I'd be calm, possibly a little bored.

On my way to the airport I called R to see how his night had panned out.

Apparently there were adult themes, harsh language, and an extendable rod weapon which has a name I can't remember. And a punch to the face. Silly high school stuff really. There was a weapon though. A punch was thrown, a potato chick (one of our posse) jumped in to break up the fracas and they all skulked away to cook up grand plans. This whole country is in Year 10.

Then Hai Anh dedided he'd lost face so punched a hole in some plastic chairs, causing his hands to bleed. Maybe Year 9.

Back to the taxi.

After this incident R had gone to another skanky bar, then another and by about 1am he had met and picked up a drunk Australian girl who took him back to her hotel room. They woke up at 10.30 to the tune of her saying "Fuck! Oh Fuck! I've got a flight at 1.30!".

Me: She had plenty of time.

R: No. She had shit everywhere. It was going to take her ages to pack.

Me: Did you help her?

R: Nup. Just got dressed and left. I'm missing a sock now.

Me: OK now I think you're officially a slut, R.

R: No! Not at all! ... hmm ... well maybe just a bit. Mot chut. [Little bit.]

I arrived at the airport and while checking in I had another thought. I called R back.

Me: If she's getting the 1.30 then she's going to Singapore. That leaves 40 min before my flight so she's probably here at the airport. Do you want me to find her?

R: I really couldn't give a fuck. I'm sure neither could she.

Me: But wouldn't it be funny if I just walked up to her out of the blue and said hello X? By the way what's her name?

R: No idea. I don't remember getting it. I doubt she would know mine, either. But yes it would be funny.

Me: If I get through Customs in time I'll call you back and ask what she looks like.

I checked in relatively quickly and went to the Sky Cafe for a lemon smoothie. I called R back.

Me: "So tell me what this girl looks like.

R: "I don't really remember. She's tall though. About 5 foot 10. Blonde. Quite buxom.

Me: "Does she wear a silver necklace with a large heart on it?

R: "Yes! Fuck! Yes! How did you fucking find her!!! That's amazing. What will I say? I know - I told her if we fucked then I'd be her Facebook friend."

[I decided to drop that one.]

Me: "Yeah, or just ask her for her email address or something.

So I walked over to this girl, handed her my phone and said "I think this call is for you ..."