A Worrying Trend

I've only ever been to Twilight Action Girl @ BarSonic once. Yes yes, I know. I KNOW.

LanSiBuk convinced me to tag along with him and Kim Jong Ill so I got them to pick me up and off we went to Zouk. We got there damn early lah, about 10pm. I don't think I've ever been to a club so early before. Actually I always say that when I go to clubs early. I've definitely been to clubs earlier before, but usually because of some kind of extenuating circumstance. I think its safe to say that it was the earliest I've ever been to a club without some kind of extenuating circumstance.

These two monkeys had been raving about TAG for so long, which is strange because they are actually kinda old, but they've found their 2nd wind of partying (my wind has passed baddaBING) and I'm happy for them. They were so excited to see the bartender, the bouncer, the DJ, the corner next to the speaker, and then when they were done saying hi to the rest of the furniture... it dawned on them that we were in a completely empty club at 10pm.

Bring on the mafakin'jugs of Long Island Ice Tea YO. This turns out to be the beverage de rigueur of the TAGalongs because it is lethal, cheap, and comes in a jug so you can poke a buncha straws in there, throw Hepatitis and other disease caution to the wind and drink as much of it as fast as you can so you can fuel the crazy dancing that you are about to do.

Now, as some of you may know, I'm actually a whinging whining princess and the older I'm getting I'm also getting a lot crankier. For example, when it comes to alcohol, i know EXACTLY what I want to drink. Back in the old days, I'd drink anything you served me, or if you asked me what I wanted, I'd be mixing liquors, beers, and mixers all through the night. This wanton disregard for certain well established schools of thought for long term binge drinking was never an issue till my liver started hurting one NYE a coupla years back and the sudden prevalence of face-tearing hangovers these days. So I know what I want to drink: Guinness and/or Whisky. Mixer will always either be Soda, Water, or increasingly, neat.

No thanks I don't want a sip of your vodka lime or do i plan on helping you finish your whisky coke. The thing about being picky with my alcohol has less to do with the alcohol than it has to do with the mixers. Let's say I've had 7 whisky cokes through the course of the night. My issue is less to do with having 7 whiskies (why not more, i want to know) but entirely with drinking 7 glasses of Coca-Cola. Do you know what that shit DOES to you? Fruit juices and soft drinks are so full of unnecessaryness that before you know it you can't tell your alcohol high from your sugar high and the hangover the next day is frikkin' legendary. I find that drinking Whisky+Water the whole night ensures hydration and simultaneous dehydration. It's the perfect drink really.

But the worrying trend in question is my sudden obsession with LEAVING parties or the club while I'm at the HEIGHT of my intoxication. I have yet to be able to control this, usually because it is a problem that occurs while my judgement is at its most impaired. The modus operandi is like this... I'll drink drank and before I get too drunk and start passing out in public or worse, I up and LEAVE. So far I've been good, I've managed to tell one person each time and then *POOF* I'm gone. Which leaves entire groups of people wondering where my awesomeness has absconded too, but also loved ones worrying that hey, that drunk asshole just left with his car keys. OH NO.

TAG was going full swing, we were dancing like maniacs, my white hat from David Wardrobe Stylist was a big hit and all was good. Ran into Doubl-EFF and he told me not to tell his girlfriend he was there. All the Freeform girls were there, doing their Freeform thing. If there's a clique that "rules" KL right now, it's those girls HOLLAAAA. Anyway. Dance drink dance drink then I decided "I'm leaving" and went up to LanSiBuk and told him. He was busy screaming into a speaker and I left Zouk.

CUT

Mid-Shot of Koobz walking up to Storm Rider at Frangipani, drink in hand, shouting at the top of his voice.

K: Oi Chinaman!

S: Tiu! Indian Keling!

K: Hahahaha laugh laugh catchup catchup

S: Catchup laugh Did you know your brother is next door? laugh catchup

K: Oh really? Fantastic, I need a ride home

and then I left Frangipani, crossed the street, and went over to Pinchoz. Lo and behold, Herukh and a buncha other cousins were there, drinking and having a good time. I walked up to my bros and told them that I needed a ride home but they were like "oh no man, we just got here, we are having such a damn good time, we aren't leaving soon, why don't you chill etc" but I was feeling so uncomfortable being so publicly drunk (weird right? me? uncomfortable? public drunkenness? i'm getting old) that I decided that I'll just grab and cab and be done with it.

I told my brothers I'd be back, went outside, negotiated the taxi driver down from daylight robbery to evening robbery in a dark side street (which means it was acceptable) and off I went home. Total time spent in Changkat Bukit Bintang... about 30 mins? 15 mins at Frangipani catching up with the Chinaman, and then 15 with my bros trying to get a ride home.

Not bad right? End of a good night, right? Did the right thing, took a cab, sorted myself out... RIGHT?

WRONGGGGGGGG.


*********************************************

The next dayyyyy, I wake up with a solid frikkin' hangover and I already know what's to blame. Bad mixer discipline from the night before. Then I get a phone call from StormRider and he's laughing at me. I paraphrase the conversation:

S: Do you know what you were doing last night?

K: Er, did I set my chest hair on fire again? I don't think so. I remember seeing you and then you told my bros were next door then we chatted for a while and I left.

S: No, you were so drunk you were just completely swearing at me over and over again and my friends were wondering what the hell was your problem. Then you started making fun of one of my friends and it was a girl and you were really rude to her, you were saying all kinds of nonsense to her lah. You were in Frangipani for about 45 minutes pissing everyone off.

K: oh shit! I'm sooo sorry man! I don't even remember that!

S: Yeah, you were really drunk man. You could barely stand up straight, but anyway, I explained to them that you aren't really like that and they thought you were just a drunk idiot.

K: I can live with that.

I try to shake my headache away but I realise that shaking ones head doesn't help the situation AT ALL. I wake up and go to the toilet and stop by Herukh's room when I'm done just to chat. He's in bed, but makes it a point of waking up to talk to me.

H: Do you know what you were doing last night?

K: When I came to see you? I didn't do anything what. I was there like 10 minutes.

H: 10 MINUTES!? Londu! 10 MINUTES! What damage you were doing! You were completely fucked!

K: No way man

H: First of all, you were in Pinchoz for like 45 minutes. Then Sheena (my BEAUTIFUL cousin) started talking to you and was asking you about how she could get into commercials and you told her that she was too short, and the industry was too racist and basically she doesn't have a face for TV really and she should just concentrate on being a lawyer.

K: *silence*

H: THEN, after I pulled you away from that situation, I told you that you were so drunk and misbehaving, so you responded by singing the ROCKY theme song and started running up the flight of 8 steps at the bar re-enacting the staircase scene from Rocky. You'd get to the top and then do 10 push ups, sing the song, shout "CAN A DRUNK PERSON DO THAT?" then run down and then do it all over again.

K: *silence*

H: So when you said "I want to go home by taxi" we were the most relieved and gladly let you go by your drunkself. By that point it didn't matter where you went.

K: Should I call Sheena and apologize?

H: Whatever, they all think you are some kind of weirdo from the start, so it doesn't matter. I said sorry for you last night anyway.

K: Shit

H: You were nuts. You are too funny when you get so fucked up. You have no idea what the hell you are doing.

********

Oh man. What the hell happened last night?

After my shower, I put on my jeans and started heading out the door to work when I checked my pockets to reveal:

1. A valet ticket for Lot 10
2. A receipt for a pack of cigarettes and some mints from Lot 10... time, 01.30am

WAIIIIITTTTTTAMINUTE. Then it dawned on me. I wasn't even DRIVING that night. How the hell did I get from Zouk to Frangipani (it is definitely not walking distance)? WHY in the WORLD do I have a valet ticket from Lot 10 (which is neither where Zouk OR Frangipani is... completely different place) and WHY do I have a receipt for a pack of smokes when I haven't smoked in ages?

According to Lan SiBuk i left Zouk slightly after midnight, which is correct, and according to Storm Rider I arrived in Frangipani slightly after 2.30am... What happened in those 2 hours? How did I end up at Lot 10? Who was I with? How was I getting around?

AND THATS what I'm worried about.

I go out. I get drunk. I leave without telling people. I lose a few hours in the night. Don't remember anything... and... and...

This is why I don't go out that much anymore. My alcohol tolerance has dropped, i've become a cheap date, but since I'm always dating myself and I earn so much more money, I keep plying myself with drinks with the knowledge that even if I'm unlucky the whole night and don't get anywhere with anyone, I can always take myself home and score with Koobz.

But if you saw me that night, hanging out at Lot 10 and/or Roots by myself looking completely dazed and confused... do let me know. Or better yet, don't ever tell me.