Friday.

Here we are at the Cantina. I’ve spent the last three days working on my new episode of The Island of Lost Guys, which obviously features my neighbor. I am planning to tell him about it. I guess I have to write an apology note to him and say, “I wrote you this story as my apology for writing mean things about you when I was mad.”

My decision to Muse-ify him was the right one. I’m not angry or fixating on him anymore now that he’s been properly written down on the page. I did have a dream last night where he was dressed up like one of the Avengers though, so… maybe I am still fixating just a little bit, lol.

Meanwhile, up at the Secret Society, the situation changes by the hour. Yesterday I went in there to write. I was up there for about three hours working on my story when the regulars all showed up for a party.

One of them went upstairs to his apartment and brought me back a stack of espionage novels set in Hong Kong. I guess I’ll be flipping through those in my spare time if anyone needs me, though I admit I’m having a hard time taking an espionage novel written by someone using the name “M.C. Butterworth” seriously.

Otherwise, our friend from the bathroom is still making casual passes at me. He keeps saying he wants to get married. Last night I asked him why he doesn’t just marry his girlfriend and everyone laughed at me like I had just made the most hilarious joke in the world. Not sure what’s going on there, but I’m nosy AF and I want to find out.

I don’t know why I go up there, lol. It’s so painfully obvious that I do not fit in or belong there. Plus it can get really weird in there sometimes. I don’t know why. Maybe it was something else before it became that bar and that’s why the vibe is so weird? I’ve noticed that’s A Thing here in HK. The “Old Hong Kong” might be long gone, but the energy still hangs around…

What I do know for sure is that I’m still trying to keep my distance from this group. They are interesting to observe from afar, but there’s still something there that prevents me from getting too close. I don’t know what it is. It’s probably the fact that I’m an artist/writer and they all work in Banking and Finance. It could also be the fact that I am the only American and therefore an outsider. It’s very obvious that I’m seen as more of a “Court Jester” type than anything else. Even I can’t take myself seriously when I’m in the room with them. I guess maybe I’m not used to taking myself seriously in general, so…

Maybe the reason I go there is because I know I’m an extreme outsider in this group. I don’t have to try to fit in because I know I never will. There is some level of freedom that comes with that. I’m not trying to get them to like me or accept me. I just want to be comfortable as myself, which I am learning how to do by standing in that room with them.

I suppose there is always the fear it could turn into another Bloody Mary’s and/or Bangkok situation. That’s part of the reason I don’t write too much about them. I watch them and listen in on their conversations, but I don’t “character-ify” them the way I’m doing with my neighbor right now. I guess now I’m starting to do that now since I’m getting to know them better. Still, I feel uneasy about writing too much about the people I meet in that place. There’s just something off about it for me. I can’t put my finger on it.

Meanwhile, the couple sitting at the bar is arguing with each other right now. Ugh. What a buzzkill. It’s mostly the guy yelling at the woman, telling her she is lazy and disrespectful and he’s tired of taking care of her. White guy/Asian lady, just in case you’re wondering.

I’m supposed to be finishing my story right now. I’m not working on it at all. I’m ready to just go back home and go to bed instead, lol.