Ah yes. The nightlife. Last night I went out for dinner with some friends, then afterwards, and very spontaneously, went to a couple of places in the city with a different friend I met up with. Although I am no stranger to clubs, the "scene", and the journey of a long, adventurous, and more often than not, tedious night, the whole thing was just a reminder of why I like to stay in more than I like to go out. Not that the whole evening was a waste. Let me share with you my evening...
I was picked up by a full car of my friends, and we went to Han's cafe (yay, culture). I always enjoy the food at Han's. As a joke, one of my friends and I suggested that after we finish up at Han's, we go for tea and cakes, then go to the donut place next door, then go to the ice cream place down the street. Turns out everybody thought this was a good idea, and we ended up doing exactly that. The place we went to for tea and cake was very nice, despite them having nailed baskets over their lights for effect.
After we went to all those food places (I actually didn't eat anything in the last two places, was pretty proud of myself), we then went to the bookshop I pointed out earlier (and suggested we go in there as a joke - it seems my jokes are manifesting themselves into legitimate actions further down the line). I ended up buying a book called "Wreck this Journal" (http://www.amazon.com/Wreck-This-Journal-Keri-Smith/dp/039953346X). You do exactly as suggested - each page has a different way of destroying the book. For example, "Poke holes in the book using a pencil" and "Rub dirt all over this page then tear it out". It's fantastic. My friend recommended it and said he has great fun doing it. Apparently it's a great way to procrastinate. For me, it'll be a procrastination method and a rage release! Two-in-one!
After the bookshop, we kinda stood around chatting, waiting for somebody's mum to pick them up. This wouldn't be such a problem if we were in a better-established area. Instead we were in a suburb where somebody got their head kicked in a week ago, and somebody else got stabbed 3 days ago. My mind couldn't help but wander to those news headlines as we stood around on a dimly lit street, and I clutched my bag tighter as my eyes darted around. My friend's mum arrived though quite speedily, so then my friend (who drove all of us to dinner) dropped me off in the city. By myself.
Now, whilst I appreciate there are much more dangerous cities than mine, one can't shake the niggling feelings one acquires whilst waiting around by oneself. My friend I was meeting up with was about 45 minutes away by train. To me, that's a lifetime away. I didn't know what to do. I sort of wandered around aimlessly, until I walked to the train station to meet her. While I was waiting at the train station, a weird Balinese guy started talking to me and asking me the usual creepy-guy questions (have you got a boyfriend? Are you single? Where are you going?), to which my reply is usually "no, I have a girlfriend. I am not single. I am going to do drugs with her bikie gang. Have a good night". We chatted for a bit, I smoked a Balinese herbal cigarette with him (disclaimer: they are disgusting), and then his friend arrived, they started talking in Indonesian and I started praying to my non-existent god that my friend would arrive soon. Which she did. And so began our nice, but brief night.
We walked quite a distance to a place called "The Geisha Bar". Both of us had never been, but we thought we'd give it a shot because their sign said "This a girls and gay-friendly bar. No sleezy or homophobic men allowed". Love it. Anyway, the bar itself was half-decent. Usual story. $10 entrance. DJ. Dancefloor. Photographer. Girls wearing dresses up their arses. Pricey drinks. They get extra points though for the massive disco balls I've only ever seen in Bee Gees film clips, and the random arcade games in the corner. It was quite a high-class bar. It wasn't really my scene; I'm too white to dance (not being self-deprecating, I really am way too awkward and pale to be trendy), the music was so loud I started laughing at the idea of the bar maids actually hearing people's drink orders and the girls were dressed a little too.. uh, provocative for me. I don't know, I think it was just a reminder of how much I prefer pubs. Pubs are more relaxed, less noisy, more casual.. I felt so socially retarded sitting there with my librarian glasses and Harley Davidson shirt. I practically looked fucking Amish. Nonetheless, 'twas an experience. So after downing 4 glasses of liquid courage (delicious, expensive courage), it was off to one of my favourite cafes.
It's this great little place with great food and a cocktail menu to die for. It's like a cross between a bar, a diner and somebody's lounge room. It's amazing. Anyway, we went there for a snack and a drink. Now, at this point, as we sat down, I realised just how much fucking money I had spent. It's so fucking expensive going out. I couldn't believe it. I thought I had lost money for a fleeting moment, then realised that it was about right. And I needed at least $30 for taxi money (yeah. Not an exaggeration. I fucking hate taxis and their fares). So, instead of ordering a Caesar salad (I know, weird) and about 3 different cocktails like I would've loved to do, I settled for a banana split (which, you may be itching to explain to me, is not even close to a Caesar salad). It was rather delicious, but alas, not as enjoyable as my original choice.
Anyway, after that, I didn't feel so well, so we walked back to the train station (my friend was catching the train home) and I hailed a cab nearby. Taxi drivers are normally quite chatty, or at least, slightly inquisitive about your night, but this taxi driver was about as awkward and sullen as I was. Several times I attempted to discuss mediocre topics, such as the weather or how busy his night has been, but eventually I gave up and played Temple Run on my iPod to distract myself from the ridiculously fucking expensive meter which was ticking away at an insulting rate. Fucking taxis. In Singapore, taxis cost about $10 on average. Even if you want to go quite a distance, you'll end up paying no more than $10-$15 max. Here, it'll cost you about $30-$40 just to go down the goddamn highway.
So I got home at around 3AM, slightly tipsy and exhausted, got myself a drink of water (it's still ridiculously hot), and collapsed on my bed. Amazing how good your bed feels after a night out. And right now it's 2.30PM, and I am slightly hungover and very tired, and I am grumpily looking out the window at what is SUPPOSED to be rain, but is in fact a hot, sunny, fucking awful and humid day. Why do meteorologists and weathermen enjoy lying to me so much? I swear, I'm moving to Seattle asap. Sick of this hot weather. Maybe Canada. Yeah, Canada.
Apologies for the way-too-long, unnecessarily detailed post about my average night. I'm like an old person - I need to feel that somebody is at least listening to my complaining, otherwise there's no point. Ha ha. Ciao for now.
-ellen
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