V for Vanity

So it’s Friday, you’ve got a headache from a less-than-productive week at work, you feel a bit sick to the stomach, and tired, so that all you really feel like doing is to sleep. What is the correct response?

Suit Up! (Unfortunately, I wasn’t quite ready for this part yet, because I didn’t go to the suit shop until the next day, but I still carried forward with the same general thrust) So I got out my best club clothes, which I seem to recall consisted of taking off the button-down I was wearing. So, I guess Suiting Down was the approach this day. Anyhow, after spending some time at a friend’s place eating brownies and drinking coke (which is better in Thailand), and trying to figure out how this weird RISK remake worked, then losing catastrophically (technically not true – we called the game because one of the players was leaving, and while I was in fourth place in terms of countries, I still had three troops on Great Britain. We just needed a last minute alliance to stop the red ‘axis of evil’ armies of Australia, and we could have succeeded, maybe), then I met up with Marvin and others at Monkey Club.

Monkey Club is one of the current favorites for the local college scene, and doesn’t have a Farang cover charge, which is always nice. I meet up with a bunch of random (mostly Thai) people, plus this crazy Swiss-Canadian guy from Vancouver (his accent was really … spasmic? eclectic? odd? Basically, every word he said seemed to have an accent all to itself, and completely unrelated to all the others. Yet, possibly due to that uniform difference, it worked for him). Still feeling a bit sick from earlier, I decide that what I really need is some Scotch! Thais are really, really into Scotch for some reason (as if you needed a reason), especially Johnny Walker, which comes in various labels: red, black, gold, green, and blue (in increasing order of price). At this point I had only had red and black, so I lobby excessively for green label, which goes for about twice that of black. A very smooth bit of blended whisky (note: Scotch whisky versus American whiskey), though as the Swissman pointed out, and I agree, it almost tasted like Bourbon. After throwing down some money and chanting “WOOO” a few times, the rest there agreed to going in on a bottle. A few drops of a bottle labeled ‘drink me’, and I’m already feeling larger than life!

We were hanging out in the restaurant area, reciting all the words we know in Thai (which was not overly many), including a number that we had heard but didn’t know what they meant (which included some definite profanity, which they were unwilling to translate but definitely laughed at). For instance, Phad Khing is a ginger dish. Phad Khii is not! Don’t order that at a restaurant. The only thing worse would be if they served it to you. After watching a bit of pool, I decided to have a foray into the club area of Monkey Club, which was epicly crazy. Absolutely packed with people and tiny tables of scotch and mixers. The hip-hop/techno/other DJ was on, and it was a bit of fun. Not enough room to dance, except for putting your hands above your head, or maybe a shimmy that no one will see. Don’t jump, though. You’ll land on someone’s girlfriend’s toes. Then while you’re apologizing to the bonny lass (with a smile and a flourish, of course), the bull gets a wee bit protective. Back to trying to dance in no space. A lot of cute girls around, but no room for the coup de grace (i.e. my killer dance moves), so I return to the table. It’s time to move to the next stage of the journey.

The next step, as has been the case recently when we’ve gone out… Wait… we haven’t actually gone out recently! So that is the reason that I have been so downspirited lately. Anyhow, the next step, as it should be, is to head off to Fabrique (rhymes with Geek). This one does have a Farang tax, unfortunately. I don’t know how much it is, however, due to (not inebriation) the fact that I’ve been there four times without paying it. It definitely helps to go in with Thai escorts. One side is the hip-hop room, which really covers anything pop and rock as well, which is at least as crowded as Monkey Club. The other side is the techno side, which has objects of wonder: strobe lights, lasers, and pedestals. Oh, and actual room to dance! I don’t know if any of you in Seattle have seen me dance to techno (that one night at Neighbors doesn’t count), but really, we should make a night of it when I get back. Actually, my best dancing starts after the point of exhuastion, halfway past the point of no return, when it’s just adrenaline, scotch, and vanity pushing my dancing forward. And other people dancing – that always makes it more fun. Waa or Oi or someone said they are probably singapore girls, whatever that means (I don’t think it has the same connotation as “essex girls”). Nonetheless, we all danced until like 3 am or so. And then went home, having a little bit of trouble walking (dancing is just so much easier, sometimes. I can be a klutz when walking) – due to exhaustion, of course.

So now it comes to the point of the night when you’re back home and want to do nothing except pass out. Which is why I spent the next 10 minutes brushing my teeth. Mmmmmmm. Not feeling a bit sick at this point – the dancing fix has cured all my ills. Or maybe it was the adrenaline. Anyways, after the teeth brushing (toothpaste is just so good, you know? I feel like brushing my teeth now), the best thing to do is have a water drinking contest with yourself. Not only is it impossible to lose, except when you accidentally pour water all over your chair instead of in the glass (luckily floors here are made of linoleum and the average drying time for anything in Thailand is about 3.7 seconds, so no big problem), but I only did that once, so no big deal. (I guess you could lose, if you used the tap water. That would be bad!) So drinking contest with yourself. The point, besides just being awesome, is to avert the dreaded hangover.

This is very similar to Arnold’s wine-fest workout: he and his body builder friends would work out until they passed out, then drink wine until they passed out, then work out until they passed out, etc., until the wine festival is over. Here, the difference is that you drink water till you pass out, and then you sleep until you pass out, your body will naturally wake you up in about two to three hours, then you repeat. When you wake up, you feel great! But you must be sure to get up the next day at a reasonable hour (no later than about noon). It’s one thing to not wake up with a hangover and actually do something. Quite another to wake up after dinnertime and exclaim “Haha, I avoided a hangover”, because you have also inadvertently avoided Saturday. That’s why you need to have a plan for the next day in advance. Something legendary. And what could be better than suit buying (different from and better than suit shopping)? Next time I’ll be truly ready to suit up. So, I got up at noon when my Bro called me to remind me to go suit buying. And thus ended my inital problem of un-awesomeness.

And so, to reward myself for being awesome, I slept 14 hours Saturday night.