Friday.
At the brunch spot. It’s about 4pm. I decided to eat before I go out tonight because I have learned my lesson, theoretically.
The server is from Nepal. I chat with her every time I come here. She’s pretty cool. She just asked me for my contact info. She wants to meet me on her day off so she can sit down with me and tell me her story. She offered to pay me to write it for her, but I told her she can just gift me a bottle of wine instead.
She has told me before that she sends most of the money she makes working here in Hong Kong back home to her family in Nepal. I think we can all agree they need that money more than I do right now. Do I need money? Yes, of course I do. Do I need money badly enough to take it from a Nepalese person after a major catastrophic disaster directly caused by climate change wiped out dozens of villages and killed thousands of people?
No. No, I do not.
Honestly, she doesn’t even have to bring me the wine. It would be an honor for me to sit down with her and give her a chance to share her story and speak her truth. I am flattered that she asked me to take down her life story. She doesn’t have to give me anything in return. I know she feels like she should pay me for any and all services rendered, but I’m not taking it. I refuse.
It is what it is.
Now for the juicy stuff. And by that I mean, the Secret Society content we are all waiting for…
So, first thing is first, our friend from the bathroom is still a problem. I saw him at The Wolf on my way up to the Mid-Levels. Without revealing too much, I will explain that The Wolf is located on a corner with one side that opens directly to the street. I usually walk by there on my way up the hill to check who is in there. I pretend like I’m not looking, but I am 100% always looking!
On this evening, Mr. Bathroom was sitting there street-side with two of his friends. I walked right by him, heard him speaking Spanish, and recognized his voice. I pretended I hadn’t heard anything and kept staring straight ahead as I walked past. When I got on the escalator and was far enough up so as to no longer be seen, I peaked into the bar and confirmed that it was indeed him.
As soon as I saw him, I thought to myself, “He’s going to follow me up to the Secret Society. I bet any amount of money he’s going to finish this drink and suggest to his friends they move on. I know it. I just know it.”
As per usual, I was right in my assumption. I walked into the Secret Society and he showed up with his friends about 10-15 minutes later.
Like, OF COURSE he followed me. Of course he did! He knows I don’t like him or respect him and that I think he’s a disgusting pig. Why wouldn’t he follow me?
Men are weird like that. I told my neighbor I think he’s hot and he literally vanished into thin air overnight. I told this Finance Bro I think he sucks, so now he’s following me around like a stray dog. Ridiculous.
Auntie Bella WAS right: If you want real results with a man, Call Him Ugly.
I decided to ignore this intrusion and chat with my English and Irish banker friends instead. They were sitting with a friend who I had not previously met before. He was wearing floral swim trunks and a t-shirt. He told me he just got back from two months in Thailand. Lucky him!
He told me he “works with horses.” I googled him this morning and that’s… definitely an understatement, lol. I will not go into further detail because one of the conditions of my membership at this establishment (or so I perceive) is that I do not doxx the other members.
This establishment is the sort of place where the big wigs like to hang out without having to feel “special,” or however you want to say it. In their lives and their jobs, they are Very Important. At this place… they are just normal people out having the craic at the pub after work. They will be vague about what they do for work, they may or may not give you a fake name to throw you off their trail (I am guilty of doing this myself, so I get it), and they will undersell themselves every time. They could be the top person in their field in the entire fucking world and they will not tell you.
Do you follow me?
Yeah. Right. That’s why I’m calling it “The Secret Society.” It literally is what it is.
I digress. This gentleman did allude to the fact that he was kind of a big deal multiple times, but he kept derailing my questions about his job because he didn’t want to talk about it. Obviously, I thought this was quite hilarious when I looked him up later. I just laughed when I saw his CV like, “This is the same man I just met wearing floral swim trunks to the bar in his post-Thailand haze?”
As the kids say… Sometimes it really do be like that tho. *shrugs*
He asked me to come home with him, but I said no, because duh. Then he wanted to know if I would ever date a man twenty years older than myself (obviously I already have) and if I am looking for a boyfriend. I said, “Maybe, but it depends on what you’re offering me.”
“What do you want?”
“I just want to have fun. Get me out of this goddamn bar. Let’s go have fun adventures around Hong Kong. I’m fun to have on your arm at a really boring party. I’m a member of the HKJC: The Hong Kong Judging Club.”
He gave me a little smile and took down my number, then left to walk up the hill to his luxury apartment or whatever. I guess we’ll see what happens now. Haven’t heard from him yet! Next time remind me to call him ugly…
LMFAO!
Yeah, I know, it’s not great, but it is what it is. Banging random hot sexy beefcakes is fun, but it would be way more fun to have a rich boyfriend who takes me to horse races, yacht parties, and on impromptu trips to Thailand.
IT IS WHAT IT IS!
After he left, I realized I was alone in the bar with Mr. Bathroom, his friends, and a lady I’ve seen hanging around him many times. She says they are “very close friends.” Mmmmhmmmm. I bet you are, Ms. “Loudly Brags About Her Sex Toy Collection To Anyone in the Bar Who May or May Not Want to Hear This Information.”
Anyway, this gangbang-in-the-making had “NOPE” written all over it, so I left the bar and headed on back down the hill.
I stopped at the Cantina to visit with my friend, then ran into the SoHo Queen at the corner bar on Peel Street on my way home. Naturally, she wanted to hang out, so I agreed, but only upon the condition that she never take me back to Wan Chai ever again.
Instead we went to a random bar around the block and got shitfaced. I love that lady. She’s definitely scary and crazy and ridiculous, but she’s also a motherfucking gangsta-ass bitch and I have nothing but respect for her.
I know, I sound like a shallow social-climber who only cares about money, power, and status. What can I say? I just spent 17 years of my life living in South Dakota, being treated like shit and kicked around for sport by the dumbest of the dumb and the lowest of the low. We all know I’m better than that.
As we have seen by the EXTREME reactions to my writing in multiple parts of the world, I am a very powerful person. At this point in my life, I have simply chosen to align myself with the people I see as my equals in this world. In order to become my best self, I must surround myself with other powerful people who can elevate me to the level I should have been on this entire time. I’ve spent enough time running around with the riff-raff down by the docks. That’s not who I really am deep down in my soul.
And honestly? I just want the lifestyle I grew up with back. I’m sick of struggling. I’m sick of working low-level jobs that any idiot could do for scraps from the table. I’m sick of being surrounded by people who act like crabs in a bucket. I want to climb to the top of the Peak, dress up in all white, and look down at everyone in my old life like they are nothing but tiny little insignificant nobodies to me. I want to get to a point in my life where nobody can ever touch me again. I don’t know what I have to do to get to that point, but I do know the entire idea of it is motivating AF. I didn’t come to Hong Kong to be a teacher. I came to climb to the top of the motherfucking mountain. So that is what I am going to do…
Off now. I should be finishing my Island of Lost Guys story, but I’m still letting it simmer for a bit. My Neighbor’s character has a lot of things to say, I guess. Let the man speak!
In the meantime, I will enjoy this sudden role reversal where I am the one who is now sitting up on the hill dressed up in white looking down at him. Just kidding, of course. Afternoon tea on the veranda is soooooo not my thing! I much prefer a balcony decorated with Mardi Gras beads where I can chill in my mask with a frozen daiquiri and look down at the plebs drunkenly wandering the streets far below me. As we say in New Orleans, laissez les bons temps rouler!
It is what it is… 🙂 🙂 🙂
Welcome to the Hong Kong Judging Club!