Tag: The Sketchy Place

BLOG: You Want To Go To A Real Party?

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Wednesday.

Strange days, strange nights. My new favourite song lyric is “You’ll get more than you bargained for when you come to Hong Kong.” Ain’t that the truth?

Let me start with Monday night. Late at night, I received a text message from my bartender friend’s mother asking me if I knew where she was. As I had just finished that “Should I Marry A Murderer?” Documentary on Netflix, I immediately panicked. When I didn’t hear from my friend for an hour, I started to spiral. By the next morning, I was fully convinced she had been trafficked or murdered.

I texted her mother asking if she ever showed up. She confirmed that my friend was alive and okay, but the situation she described was unclear. I went to the bar where my friend works in search of her. She was not there, but her Auntie was. I showed her the message and she said, “Oh yeah, last night was crazy. It was a whole thing. I am actually about to go see her right now. Do you want to come?”

Obviously, yes, because I still hadn’t heard from my friend herself, so I was worried. We left the bar and took a cab to Causeway Bay to meet up with my friend at this rooftop bar where she was with her boyfriend. I was so relieved to see her. She explained what happened. She was out drinking and broke her phone, so nobody can currently get ahold of her. Okay, not so bad.

My friend and her Auntie both seemed half-surprised at my concern, but at the same time, they were not really that surprised at all. I have become close with them since I came back to Hong Kong. They share stories with me, I share stories with them, we laugh, we cry, we smoke, we drink. Last night we went out for a girls night and had the best time. We are all real friends now.

It still wigs me out to see how people look at me when I hang out with them. The racism and classism here is so real. There is definitely a sense of “Why is this Western white woman hanging out with Filipina women? Doesn’t she know they’re ‘The Help’? Why are you hanging out with ‘The Help.’”

Probably because I don’t want to spend time around rich white people with active cocaine addictions who classify brown people as “beneath them?” Hmm… just a theory!

Definitely a fish out of water over here. Ugh. I was explaining to them that I’ve grown to resent this concept of “networking” because nine times out of ten, it’s just rich white people doing Coke and Special K together. It’s so depressing to realize the entire financial system on this planet is run by people with active drug addictions, but it is what it is, I guess.

Not exactly a mystery why I, a person who spent 20 years working in the service industry, would want to hang out with other people who work in the service industry. They’re relatable. They have the same perspective as I do. We stand behind the bar and judge the fuck out of the crazy people snorting coke off of dirty bar toilets who somehow think they are “above us.”

Also, I’ve never had a corporate office job and I’ve been trapped out living in the middle of fucking nowhere for 17 years. Now I’m 37 years old and I’m having my first exposure to the “white collar” world. It’s like…. Ugh. Gross.

Most of these people are so out-of-touch with reality. They have no idea we are watching them like they’re characters on a TV show. They just think the people who are bringing them drinks are empty-headed slaves put on earth to serve them because of their presumed “superiority.” It’s ridiculous.

Anyway, we had a good time on the rooftop last night. Plus, we got a discount because my friend had worked there before and everyone on the staff knew her. Perks! I even said to Auntie, “This is your Jack Dawson moment. Like we just surveyed this room of corporate jerks and you looked over at me and said, ‘Do you want to go to a real party now?’”

Yes, yes I do. Take me to the lower decks and we’ll crack open the whiskey and dance until this ship sinks to the bottom of the SEA.

So that’s what we did.

We also wanted to test out the theory that some people and places are safer than others. They have serious concerns about me after hearing my stories about The Sketchy Place and The Wolf. In fact, my friend asked me I remember seeing her on Saturday night after leaving The Sketchy Place. I do not. I barely remember anything about Saturday night, to be honest.

She said I was absolutely fucking shitfaced and she had never seen me in a state like that. She said everyone was concerned because they have all seen me drinking in their bar and they’ve never seen me act like that. I said this is the third instance of a blackout happening at The Sketchy Place. They are very against me going back. I can’t help but agree with them, considering the only two things I remember about being there are watching a drug dealer do business with everyone there and then not having to pay for our tab.

We decided to test out the “How much alcohol can Betsey actually put down before blacking out?” Theory. I was with them all night drinking mojitos, eating snacks, smoking menthols, and laughing hysterically. By the end of it, I was barely tipsy and in a very good mood. This proved to us that yes, The Sketchy Place is, in fact, unsafe, and that I should never go back there ever again.

Mission Accomplished.

Fast forward to this morning. I was not hungover. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. More proof something weird is going on at some of these places. They are convinced I’m being targeted because I’m a writer. They are probably right. It’s not the Triads I’m afraid of here. It’s the Finance Bros and their active drug addictions that make them power-hungry, paranoid, and totally unstable.

I came to the coffee shop, as I always do. However, instead of writing, I launched into a conversion with another writer I met here who is from India. We have a lot in common. He gave me some really good advice and invited me to join a local writer’s group.

I couldn’t help but smile at the fact that I had a vision of Lord Ganesha on a beach in India yesterday, and now there is an Indian man sitting in front of me imparting extremely valuable writing advice. That’s not a coincidence! That’s just Hinduism working its magic.

There are some truly strange things that happen in this world sometimes. Strange, unexplainable things. I believe in all of them. I truly do believe in magic. I believe in it more and more as this year has unfolded. There is no such thing as a coincidence. We always end up exactly where we are supposed to be.

On that note, I am off now. To do what, we don’t know. I’ll let the universe take the lead today. I trust in the process…

BLOG: The Weekend Update

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Monday.

It was quite the weekend, wasn’t it? You know shit’s going down when I don’t post for two days in a row. So much to document. This is why I have to write daily or I will forget.

Friday night was… the most interesting. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be since the vast majority was pretty lame. I watched Remarkably Bright Creatures, which made me cry my eyes out. I think I may have watched something else before that which also made me cry, but I can’t fully remember. Whatever it was also made me cry. I actually spent most of my night crying. That’s what I remember about it, lol.

It’s not a good weekend for me. It was my dead dad’s birthday and Mother’s Day. Not so fun for me. So I just planned to stay in and cry about it because I didn’t want to put that energy onto anyone else by going out in public.

Sometime around 3am, I decided to go up to the rooftop for a smoke. As I was coming back to the stairway, I heard someone coming up the stairs. I looked down to confirm it was my hot beefcake neighbor. I noticed he was staring at his phone and had his earbuds in. I decided to use the opportunity to scare him since that’s our little inside joke now. We are always startling each other unexpectedly, though I suspect he’s done it on purpose now at least once or twice. The last time was definitely intentional.

I decided to take revenge. I hid behind the door so he couldn’t see me. When he reached the top, I jumped out at him and yelled “Boo!” I got the full movie jump scare out of him. He genuinely looked terrified! I was laughing so hard! It was so funny! Just what I needed after a long night of crying…

It took him a minute or two to recover. Once he had regained his composure, he gave me a look I can only describe as “smoldering” and said, “Ohhh, you’re in trouble now. I’m gonna get you back. I am going to wreck you. Just absolutely wreck you. One of these days, I’m gonna come out here when you’re doing yoga and sneak up on you and absolutely ruin you.”

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Ummm… okay. Why does that sound less like a threat and more like a sexual innuendo? Is this one of these British English vs American English kind of situations? What’s going on here? What’s he actually saying? Am I supposed to be turned on right now? Because I’m actually kind of turned on right now.

As I was relaying this part of the story to my friend later, she raised her eyebrow and smirked at me.

“I think your neighbor has a thing for you,” she said.

“Maybe. I don’t know. Does saying ‘I’m going to wreck you’ mean something different in British? Because in America, that’s a very strong, very sexually-charged statement to make.”

My friend just laughed at me.

“Yeah, it means the same thing in British.”

“So he’s saying he wants to bang me?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Hmm. Interesting.”

Back to the rooftop. We ended up sitting out there chatting for like an hour and a half. He said to me, “You know, you are the strangest person I have ever met. I can’t figure you out at all. You’re such a little weirdo. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Well, you know us Americans. We’re all very strange and exotic to properly uptight British lads like yourself. It’s A Thing. They’re all into Asian girls until the moment they meet an American, and then it’s like, “Ooooooh, an American. I’m obsessed with Americans and America. I love America! I want to be American! If I put my penis inside of you, will I absorb your magical powers of Freedom, Liberty, and Justice for All?”

My British Guy in Bangkok was like this as well. He was utterly obsessed with my Americanness. Then he ran off with some Thai girl to an island and was never seen or heard from again. I don’t think he knows what he wants, tbh.

Anyway, so, back to my neighbor. He started asking me all these questions about South Dakota. This is also A Thing I’ve noticed with people who have fascinations with Americans. They hear me say “South Dakota” and they think Ye Olde Western Frontier. Cowboy boots. Gunslingers. Old-timey dive bars with a piano player and bathtub bourbon. Aces and Eights! The whole thing!

Truly, not that far off from reality, if you want my professional opinion.

So obviously the last thing I want to talk about to anyone ever is motherfucking South Dakota. Unfortunately, it turns out there is a whole untapped international market that is obsessed with it and wants to know everything there is to know about it. It is what it is. I could be angry, or I could exploit my 17 years of experience and knowledge for ca$$$h money, baby! What do you think I’ll end up choosing in the end?

As I mentioned previously, my neighbor is an Actor. He says he usually plays bad guys in Chinese movies. I told him he could also play bad guys in Bollywood movies since he’s British. He said, “No, I want to play a gunslinger in a movie about the American West.” Okay, okay, I can see it, I can see it. Let’s just sit here on the rooftop and work through this concept together until we have a decent script.

The story we ultimately worked out is basically just the male version of The Holiday. I have a friend back in SD who has the same name as my neighbor. We’ll use a fake name here to protect their identities: Dave. So this movie is temporarily titled “Dave vs. Dave.” Still working that one out.

In this movie, Hong Kong Dave and South Dakota Dave are both bored with their lives and looking for a change. They meet on an Internet forum and decide to trade lives. HK Dave goes to South Dakota, where he lives in SD Dave’s tiny house, drives his big pick-up truck, works at a dive bar on the edge of town, wears cowboy boots every day, and carries a gun around on his hip for absolutely no reason other than the fact that it looks cool.

Meanwhile, SD Dave goes to Hong Kong, where he lives in HK Dave’s tiny shoebox apartment and works as an actor. We get to see him scaling the bamboo scaffolding and doing kung fu and going on crazy car chases across the bridge to Kowloon and fighting off the Triads.

I sent this pitch to SD Dave and he absolutely LOVED it. He was like, “Can we make this actually happen?” IDK, maybe. I suppose anything is possible, right?

Right.

Sometime around 4:30am, we decided to call it a night. I was slightly disappointed that he did not make a move, but again, I suspect he has a girlfriend even though he says, “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a girl I see sometimes.” Sooooo basically… she’s your girlfriend, lol.

Men. Lol.

So that was Friday.

On Saturday, I went out with my girl friend, whose identity I prefer to protect by not “making her into a character.” We have talked about this. I told her that I mention in my blog that we frequently go out to different places together, but she’s not a “character” and I don’t write about her life. She’s cool with it.

So we went out for lunch, then we went up to The Sketchy Place. It was actually her suggestion. I had my doubts, but I mulled it over during lunch and decided it was a good idea to check in again after a month to see what’s up. As we were walking up, both of us had some doubts, but we decided to go through with it in the end.

Several mysteries were solved on this occasion. First, I figured out how I got “lost” and “separated” from her the last time we were there. It turns out, the bathroom is in a weird location. You have to walk back through the kitchen to get to it. If you come out and turn left immediately, there is an open door to the alleyway outside that splits into two directions. If you turn right, you go back through the kitchen and out into the bar. As soon as I saw this, I realized that what had happened before was that I was really drunk and confused and somehow got “lost” in this alleyway. I get lost in the dumbest ways in HK. It’s a real thing.

The second mystery we solved was the question of whether or not this place is frequented by drug dealers. The answer is yes. I saw the same guy from The Wolf who had given the coke to the Finance Bro I was with at the time. I observed him for some time. He kept going in and out, making phone calls, and “shaking hands” with randoms on the street. It appeared to be an open secret among the regulars there. Everyone knew what he was doing and nobody cared. It’s like… yeah, duh, that’s why he’s here.

The group of people he was with were the same sketchy crew of long-term expats as before. Once I sat in observation of their dynamic without involving myself, I understood exactly what was going on.

Somehow, our tab was mysteriously “taken care of,” even though we did not actually socialize much with anyone else that night. I don’t know who paid it. Was it the MAusGA guy? Was it my Irish friend? Was it someone else? We have no idea. All we know is that we didn’t have to pay for jack shit.

Hmm… I see your bribe for what it is and willingly accept it. I will no longer be reporting on The Sketchy Place. Really, what else is there to say? Everyone knows the daily consumption of Coke & Special K are an open secret in the Finance World. It is what it is. What else is there to say?

So at this point, I was pretty wasted. I know better than to daydrink with wine, but I was daydrinking wine. Questionable choices were made! All I can say is: Nothing good ever happens at the 7/11 by Peel Street. It is what it is!!!!

I made a deal not to write about what happened with the other person involved. We agreed it was a mistake and to just hit reset and move on. I am open to making deals with people not to use them as characters in my writing. You just have to approach it the right way. You’ll get much further by being respectful than you will by going on the attack. Going into Attack Mode against me will make it 1000x more likely that I’ll write about you. I reserve the right to defend myself at all times. My way of defending myself is with a Pen, not a Sword. It is what it is.

This is part of the reason why I ignored the Russian when he said he didn’t want to me to write about him. Okay, well, maybe you should have thought about that more before you used me for cheap work trip sex, tossed me aside like I was nothing, and then blocked me as soon as you got off the plane in Switzerland.

All of that says, “I have no respect for you as a human being.” So why would I have any respect for you in return? Fuck you, bro. I’ll write a story about you fighting a bear with your shirt off if I want to. What are you going to do? Cancel me for being a big, strong, alpha female?

*blows raspberry in his general direction*

Anyway, I was soooo hungover yesterday. It was not a good thing. I can’t live my life this way anymore. I am getting too old for this. My body absolutely fucking hates me right now. I need to do a cleanse. I need to do yoga. I need to drink some water and eat some fruit. Just… ugh.

I still have not made a decision about Cambodia. I need to do that like, today. I can’t just ghost this person. It’s been almost a week. I need to send them a response.

It’s hard. I love Hong Kong. I really want to make it work. I can see myself living here long-term. But I also feel like… this work trade in Cambodia is a rare opportunity and I should take it just for the experience. Cambodia is so beautiful. It has such a tragic backstory. It’s complicated. I want the chance to explore it. Isn’t that the point of coming to SEA? I gotta See the SEA! That’s why I’m here!

Plus, it might be good for me to go teach yoga and be out of the city and just do a little reset/detox to figure out my next steps. This year has been stressful and confusing. I’m so grateful to have left SD behind, but it’s been a lot.

I don’t know. I have to decide. I’m gonna do yoga on my rooftop and figure it out from there. I’ll just make sure my neighbor isn’t home first so he can’t sneak up on me and scare me, lol!

I told him this morning that he missed out on his revenge. I was walking down the stairs in my building and a GIGANTIC cockroach fell from the sky and bounced off my shoulder. I SCREAMED so loud that the entire building heard me.

I messaged him to tell him this story and he said, “Ah yes, I heard your shriek. I suspected that’s what happened. This is why I told you not to use the stairs.”

I was just trying to get my steps in, bro. Jesus. I hate cockroaches. They’re so gross. So gross! EWWWWW!!!!!

Phew! What a long post! What a weekend! What a life!

I really do love it. Even on the days when I’m sad and struggling and lost and confused. I love my life. I love Hong Kong. I love SEA. I feel so incredibly lucky to be here. I am grateful every single day. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world, for better or for worse. I never, ever thought I would live in Hong Kong (or Bangkok, for that matter). I wouldn’t trade this adventure for anything in the world.

Off now. I need to tidy up my studio and run errands and do all the boring stuff now. Not every day can be an adventure. Most days are very routine and boring. But still… I can’t help but find myself falling more in love with Hong Kong every day…

Have a good day!

BLOG: Shark Fin Soup

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Friday. At the coffee shop. It’s raining today. It rained all last night. The construction was still going on outside until about 2am when the rain started, so the very loud sounds of the drilling were replaced by impossibly loud, extremely terrifying thunder claps. Needless to say, I did not get a lot of sleep last night.

Instead I stayed up late into the night vision boarding and life planning. I was looking at everything I was doing this time last year before Hong Kong. So much hope for the future, lol. Looking back now, I can see why I immediately fell into a deep depression when that first TEFL job went off the rails. Mistake! It wasn’t my fault. This company has a terrible reputation here in Hong Kong!

Still, most people I’ve met out here are better about jumping back fast. It took me more time than I thought it would to jump back. Then again, I was carrying a lot with me when I came here. Like I’ve said, it took me six months just to feel safe in the fact that I don’t have to go back to SD. There was also the breakup, all of the unprocessed feelings about my dad’s death, etc etc etc. I was in pretty rough shape.

Luckily for me, Bali and Thailand’s expertise is nursing sick water buffalo like me back to health, so here I am now. Back in Hong Kong. Recovering after a mysterious set of injuries appeared after I blacked out at the Sevens. Grand.

The good news is that I did get another ping from a source regarding the shadiness of one of those bars, so I’m not wrong to be concerned there might be more to the story. Maybe I was actually followed and attacked? It’s not out of the realm of possibility. I guess I would rather think I fell down the stairs because it’s a more pleasant version of reality…

Anyway, going over my old Pinterest boards always kicks my ass back into gear. I had a plan once. I had motivation. I had goals and dreams and a notebook full of financial worksheets and fancy charts. All of my academic dreams are well within my reach. Ireland is within my reach. The whole world is within my reach. I just have to work for it.

Let’s just channel The Russian’s energy here for a second, just to help me be less messy for five seconds. This is a person who is very educated, has traveled extensively, and started his own business. This is basically just the male version of the person I would like to be. It’s a good thing I fucked him, because now I have his energy inside me and I can be more like that.

It’s like how some Chinese people snort ground up rhino horns or eat shark fin soup or whatever. They do it because they think they’re absorbing the power of that animal. This is my new strategy with men: absorb the power of the animal, which in this case is a scorpion. So just more of the same, but manlier, lol.

That’s actually not limited to the Chinese at all. Wasn’t there an English king who ate a lion’s heart because he thought it would make him more powerful in the Crusades or something? Yeah, Richard the Lionheart. From Robin Hood. I think? Somebody fact check that for me later. I’m in the middle of a flow and now I’m moving on to the part about West African War Lords in eating children’s hearts and snorting gunpowder or whatever.

Hmm… I think I’m starting to figure out why men are so afraid of women, lol.

Anyway, that was a neurodivergent side quest into history. Side bar over. What was I talking about again? Absorbing Finance Bro energy to make myself stronger and more powerful? Yeah, that sounds about right. Somehow this has something to do with making vision boards on Pinterest. I have no idea, lol. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought. Or maybe I just haven’t finished my coffee yet.

I think my goal for the day was to re-do my resume for the billionth time, split it into multiple versions, and start sending it out, again. I was using a local job board, but I have gotten nothing back from it, so I’m switching to a different tactic. Be open. Embrace the chaos. Get that passport stamped. Worry less, travel more. See the world! Save money! Go back to school! Write about it all later!

Hmm.

Too bad The Russian ghosted me. I’m sure he would really appreciate me comparing his dick to illegally-poached ivory products and shark fin soup. I can imagine him doubled over laughing hysterically on the red leather couch right now.

Alas.

I just have to remember: I am not helpless. I am awesome! I am empowered! I’ve made it this far, and by this far, I mean traveling to a dozen countries in two years, attending two yoga teacher training courses in India and Bali, surviving life in Hong Kong after a failed TEFL job, finding my inspiration to write again while briefly living in Bangkok, and adding more characters to my Island of Lost Guys along the way.

I’d say I’m doing pretty well for someone who was intentionally pushed into a mental breakdown after her father died by her incredibly sick-minded co-workers from Starbucks for entertainment. That was three years ago! Wow! And where are those jerks now? Well, one of them definitely went to jail for assault, so there you have it!

Thank god I escaped that place. I hated South Dakota so much. There are no words. I don’t know what’s wrong with those people. They choose conflict and drama every time. Now that I’m far away from it and I don’t have to deal with it anymore or be an active target, I can see how wrong it really was. Sick, sick, sick people. Just sick, twisted, and evil.

Okay. Forget all of that. It’s hard. I still try to drown it out every day. It still affects my confidence. I still have flashbacks about the days I was constantly being attacked online, at work, around town, by my family, by my exes. It went on for years and years and years and years. It’s not easy to forget. I just have to keep adding new memories, new languages, new travels, new stories, new media, new everything to my brain to replace it all.

It is like Kim Kardashian says. “You just need to do so many photoshoots. The good pictures will replace all the bad pictures and soon everyone will forget the bad pictures altogether.”

I can’t remember if she said that in the show or if she said it to me in a dream. That happens sometimes. I have dreams about her coming to me and giving me life advice. Kim K and Paris Hilton. It’s a whole thing. Judge me all you want. I don’t care. I’m willing to take the L on this one. I shamelessly Keep Up and I have no regrets about it.

Okay, I had a mission today. That mission is to get up off my ass and work. Try to find a way to keep the past from haunting me forever. Move forward. Find a new job. Live a new life. Save money. Go back to school. The whole jam.

Motivated AF!

The Chinese guy sitting next to me at the cafe just looked at the bottom of his mug and read his foam the same way one would read tea leaves. How fun! I’m going to try that now. Let’s see what comes up…

Ohhhhhh I definitely got a heart! And a snake. So love is coming, but there will be obstacles along the way. No worries. That’s why I’ve got not one, but two statues of Ganesha, as well as a giant rainbow tapestry depicting him. Obstacles? No problem! We’ll be cruising on through like we’re on a TukTuk ride through New Delhi at rush hour!

BLOG: Fresh Eyes

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Tuesday. New Day.

Still not feeling 100%, but I am feeling better after having dinner with my friend last night. We went to a restaurant in Kowloon on the top floor of a skyscraper with the most incredible views of the city. Kowloon on one side, the harbor and Hong Kong Island on the other. The food wasn’t great! We were definitely paying for the views. Either way, it was one of those moments that reminded me how lucky I am to be living in Hong Kong.

I was happy to see my friend after the unfortunate incident in the Mid-Levels last week. We had a chat about it. I apologized for putting her in unsafe situation. She expressed concern about my habit of going to random bars looking for stories. I cannot help but agree with her. It is becoming a problem at this point. We agreed I would not to return to The Wolf or The Sketchy Place in the Mid-Levels.

The conversation turned from this unfortunate event to The Russian. I was happy to finally dish out the story to a trusted girlfriend. It felt like I wasn’t carrying such a heavy weight anymore. I could just laugh about it and move on. He certainly did.

Onto the next one, onto the next one…

Then the conversation shifted towards careers. Obviously, I respect her privacy so I am not going to tell you what she does for a living. I will only say that she is in the market for a new job, so we were discussing the process of job hunting in the modern era. It’s not great! She has a whole professional career with years of experience and even she’s having problems with the crappy job market. Depressing to think about.

Anyway, she had a lot of good advice that I’ve decided to follow. Sometimes a fresh set of eyes is all you need to change your perspective. The main thing is really just to work on my confidence. Also, stop doing the same thing I was doing before because it’s not working. Take a risk and try something new. Good plan.

I should go climb the Peak now to reset and reset. Always remember why you came to Hong Kong, Betsey. You could have stayed in Bangkok and lived life on easy mode forever. But you didn’t. You chose to come to Hong Kong, where everything is difficult, expensive, and competitive, and you chose to climb to the top of the Peak, no matter how much time it takes or how many breaks you have to take. You can do this. You just have to try.

Oh, the things I tell myself to survive in this ridiculous world we live in.

I have no idea how long it’s been since I did yoga. Oh wait, yes I do. I did a very intense routine before my date with the Russian. I definitely had to warm up for that one, if you know what I’m saying.

I am so disconnected from my yoga practice these days. Maybe that is why I feel so scattered. I’m just holding everything inside instead of sweating it out on the mat and then clearing my mind during meditation. It really does make a difference.

Motivating myself to do anything but get out of bed is hard these days. Yet somehow I wake up every morning, shower, get dressed up, and walk down to the coffee shop to write. That’s better than most people with depression. Why do I not just go up onto my rooftop and add the yoga in? Why do I not go to the studio around the corner, or any of the 20+ other studios in Central? Why am I not doing yoga?

I could be healthier. I should be healthier. I can’t keep living my life this way. I need to get my shit together. That’s why I came here. I wanted to get my shit together. Hong Kong standards are high. I must hold myself accountable here. Ok, ok, I know, I know.

I’m just… really struggling to find my way on my own.

I’m not feeling well today. I just want to go home and get back in bed and curl up and just… sleep.

BLOG: To Market, To Market

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Saturday. At the coffee shop.

The last few days haven’t been great, to be honest. I was feeling pretty low after what happened in the Mid-Levels earlier this week. Who wouldn’t be, right?

You get on a plane, you fly to the other side of the world expecting to live your dream life, and then it all keeps going hilariously wrong instead. Good thing I’m a writer, or I would be crying to my family and begging them to let me come home. I’m not about that life. I will survive.

Instead I made a decision to be pro-active and not cave into the inevitable bed rot. I spent the whole of yesterday deep cleaning my apartment. Just dropped off another load of laundry at the Chinese Laundry Service on the corner so everything will be clean. Made some spicy noodles, drank some tea, ate some snacks. Slept in my freshly-laundered sheets and blankets. Definitely feeling somewhat better about life today.

I know it’s okay because the song on the delivery’s guy street speaker is Linger by the Cranberries. LOL. It’s… a long story, LOL. This is actually a South Dakota moment, not an Irish moment. It’s a “I’m finally at peace with my book about Bloody Mary’s Bar” moment. We have waited many years for this. Let’s soak it up while it lasts.

Anyway, back to the present. We don’t live that sad little small town life anymore. We live the Big SEA life, which is much more exciting. I get to do things like go to yoga school in Bali and spend the night in Thai airport jail and go on dates to the Mandarin Oriental with crazy hot Russian guys and receive late invitations to the fabulous Emerald Ball in Bangkok.

As for the Bloody Mary’s Krewe? Well, I guess they’ll always have the oh-so-fond memory of Mad Dog and I smoking pot on the back patio while Sam the bar owner yells at us over whatever he’s in a bad mood about that day.

Hahahaha!

Okay, but for real, back to the present.

What is my plan for the day? Well, it’s market day, which means grocery shopping! Yay!

Get this: So I kept seeing memes about Hong Kong neighborhoods, and apparently my neighborhood is the Frenchiest neighborhood in HK. I did not know this. I kinda knew because I hear people on the street speaking French just as much as I hear English and Cantonese. I’ve seen some French spots around. I just didn’t realize my neighborhood was “The Spot” until last night when I typed in the word “French” into Google maps and my neighborhood lit up like the Fourth of July.

I discovered a new imported goods shop that deals exclusively in French products, including cheese, deli meats, and bakery items. Ummm, yes please!

Screw the bougie grocery store in the Mid-Levels! On top of everything else ridiculous that happened to me there, they also had the nerve to sell me not one, but two packages of moldy, rotten cheese, both of which were extremely overpriced. We are officially done with them forever. That is definitely a sign from the universe saying, “Stay away from the place! It’s no good for you!”

So today I’m going to check out the French shop instead. I’m very excited about it. In addition to fancy ramen noodles, I survive almost exclusively off of “snack trays” that usually incorporate a variety of fruit, cheese, nuts, and crackers. I checked out the prices online and the deals on some of my preferred items are much better than at the other Western grocery stores. I’ve tried three of them now and they are okay, just overpriced. I still prefer to buy some things at the Chinese shops, like fresh fruit,large packages of water, and household goods. But there are certain things that only the Western grocery stores have (such as the deli and bakery sections), and the quality is vastly different.

Otherwise, I have decided to make peace with the rats who have recently moved into the rooftop garden. They came with the change of the season. They did not used to be there. Now every night I go up there for a cigarette and I see them lurkin’ in the shadows, watching my every move, creeping around so they can grab some rice out of the communal food bowl the building owners leave out every day for the birds.

At first, I was freaked out. It’s not that I am afraid of rats, it’s just that I’ve never forgotten about the time they wiped out 2/3rds of Europe’s population with the Black Plague. I also haven’t forgotten my encounters with the GIANT rats of New Orleans (locally known as “Quarter Cats” because they are so well-fed), nor my encounters with the New York City rats, who are aggressive enough to run straight at you in an effort to try to scare you enough to drop your pizza on the ground. Luckily, Hong Kong rats are neither scarily large, nor scarily aggressive. It seems like they prefer to sneak around unnoticed and hide in plain sight.

Last night I was out there smoking and I caught one of the rats watching me from the safety of one of the plants. It was actually kind of cute. I realized it was more afraid of me than I am of it, and we should be okay as long as we keep a safe distance of six feet of space from each other at all times.

As I made peace with the rooftop rats, I stood up to go back inside. I could smell a very familiar scent coming from the entry way, signaling to me that my cute neighbor was there. So I knew he was there, and I expected to see him standing there, and he still scared the shit out of me anyway! I swear to you, he did it on purpose!

It used to be that he and I would startle each other by accident, but now I think he is doing it intentionally for a laugh. I mean… it was kind of funny. I literally knew he was there and he still got me! Like, bro, why didn’t you just come out into the garden and say hello like you usually do?

I realized then… I gotta watch out more for this guy than I do for the rats. He’s the one that’s gonna get me when I least expect it. Not that I would really mind if he randomly backed me into the elevator and started making out with me… he is a sexy beefcake, after all! And he’s got the sexy British-Hong Konger accent.

Last night he was making fun of the way I say “laundry.” Prior to this jump scare incident, I ran into him in the hallway and told him I was on my way to pick up my laundry. He laughed as he walked away and kept repeating “LAN-dree, LAN-dree” with like some weird Southern drawl on the end of it. Like maybe he was trying to do a Texas accent or something. He just thought it was the funniest thing how I said “laundry.”

I don’t get it, but okay. And then we get the jump-scare a couple hours later. Okay, okay, let’s just makeout on the rooftop already and get it out of your system. Then you can pull a Russian guy and just go back to your real life while pretending literally none of it ever happened.

He also came out of a different apartment than the one I’ve seen him coming out of before. Did he switch apartments? Is that why I keep seeing that random Chinese girl walk into the one that I thought was his? Does this Airbnb host just play musical chairs with their studios and keep moving us around at their convenience? What is happening over here?

Anyway, I was annoyed with him because I actually wanted to ask him a legitimate question and I forgot. I want to ask him what he knows about The Wolf and The Sketchy Place. Surely he has some information I need. I will make sure I remember to ask next time he jumps out of the stairwell and scares the crap out of me.

Well, that’s about all I have to say for now. Off to the market. Have a good day!

BLOG: This Is Not Normal

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Wednesday in Hong Kong. Looks like it might rain soon. Luckily I managed to rescue my umbrella from the bar now known as “The Sketchy Place.”

This story is not-so-fun. Get ready. It might be triggering if you’ve ever been drugged at a bar before.

A few weeks back, I mentioned a story where I was walking home from the fancy grocery store up in the Mid-Levels and was roped into this random bar by the MAusGA. As you may recall, I blacked out there and can’t remember how I got home. I really thought it was just me not handling my wine, but the other night brought this theory into question.

Here’s the timeline:

  1. Met the MAusGa’s at The Sketchy Place, which is allegedly a small neighborhood bar frequented by the wealthy business class of the Mid-Levels.
  2. Finance Bro I met that night invited me for Happy Hour at a different bar, which I will call “The Wolf” after The Wolf of Wall Street. As you may recall, this “date” ended with him offering me a line of coke off of a dirty bar toilet and groping me behind the bar in front of the entire staff.
  3. Made a new friend that night, who is Irish and here on a long-stay work exchange with his company in Dublin. I met up with him a second time at The Sketchy Place. Nothing shady or questionable occurred.
  4. Fast-forward to Monday night, when I was back up in the Mid-Levels at this same bougie grocery store that I’m starting to suspect might actually suck.
  5. I walked down the same route, and one of the MAusGA’s from the first night was sitting outside The Sketchy Place. Pretty sure it was the same guy who roped me in the first time. It was definitely the same guy who I mentioned I saw mean-mugging me from a distance when I walked by The Wolf. He invited me in, but I only agreed because I saw my Irish friend there. I invited my other friend to meet me there as well. You know, for “networking,” as they say.
  6. Everything was normal until my other friend arrived. This is when I blacked out, again. I literally have no memory of anything that transpired after this. No memory. I don’t remember leaving, I don’t remember walking home, nothing. I definitely don’t remember how I fucked up my knees and elbows, or why my shoulder is suddenly in so much pain.
  7. I woke up the next day to messages from both of my friends in a panic. They told me I disappeared and neither of them could find me. Then my lady friend told me the same MAusGA guy was creeping on her hardcore and trying to get her to go home with him. She couldn’t find me, so she left and got home safe. Both of my friends were seriously, legitimately concerned for my safety.
  8. Are the alarm bells going off in your head yet?

Right. Yeah. If they’re not, they should be.

I told my bartender friend about this incident last night and she also freaked out. She was like, “Wait a minute. That’s not right. I’ve seen you drunk before. You’ve never blacked out here, have you?”

“No, just at the Sketchy Place.”

“And it happened to you twice in the span of a couple of weeks?”

“Right.”

“And you’ve already said that you’ve had problematic interactions involving drugs with the regulars there before?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, yeah, don’t go there again. I know that place you’re talking about. The vibe is very off there. I don’t like the bartenders. They seem sketchy. Just don’t go back there.”

I sat and thought about it for a moment before I remembered the day I was up on the rooftop and watched an obvious dealer lurk around outside. He was shaking hands with a lot of business types on their way home from work, if you know what I’m saying.

So yeah, not really too far out of the ordinary to think there might be something shady going on up there. So much for “networking” and “rubbing shoulders with the elite.”

As I’ve stated before, if this is the kind of crap people are doing to get ahead and stay ahead in that world, I want absolutely no part of it whatsoever.

What am I going to do about what I’ve seen and now suspect I know? Oh, well, you know, after repeatedly reporting incidents like this while living in South Dakota and being treated like literal human garbage as a result, my plan is simply to write about it.

Obviously, this is the shittiest solution ever. But, really, what can I do? There are CCTV cameras everywhere. If the Chinese know this stuff is going on and turn a blind eye to it, what hope do I have?

Still, if it’s happening to me, it must be happening to other people as well. There’s never just one of us. Predators usually have an established pattern. I must be someone’s type, or whatever they think their type is: young, vulnerable, alone in the big city for the first time, lonely, isolated from family, few friends, no job, no safety net, no purpose or direction.

Ahhh, but what you don’t know about me is that I wield the most powerful weapon of all: the pen.

Anyway, yeah, so needless to say that between this incident and The Russian, I have decided to slow down on the so-called “networking.” It’s not working for me. I have made some actual friends, which is good! However, all of this is just too much for me. This “corporate finance tech bro culture” is so toxic and sickening. It’s just not… the vibe for me. Like at all.

Meanwhile, we never heard anything from The Russian ever again. He has officially disappeared off the face of Planet Earth. Grand! This means I can now write whatever the fuck I want to write and I don’t have to worry about him checking up on me or getting in my business or trying to derail the one thing that keeps me sane in this world. He’s gone full ghost mode and he still has more class than the jerks from Bloody Mary’s Bar back in South Dakota. Love that for him!

My friend told me last night that I shouldn’t have texted him the paragraphs. I disagree. The paragraphs were not about my feelings. The paragraphs were summarizing what I’ve already said here and other jokes I planned to make. I sent that to cover my own ass and show that I did inform him. Just in case of any legal entanglements that may potentially arise…

My friend specifically said, “Don’t message him anymore. You’re giving away all your power. He has all the power now.”

I mean… does he really, though? He’s the punchline of my latest joke. Whatever power he thinks he has over me is purely in his mind. Frankly, if all he wants is power, then he can be all alone with his power. I don’t give a fuck. I’ll take my jokes about scorpion mating rituals and bad James Bond films and continue living my life the way I please.

I don’t think he ever really had the power. I just kinda let him pretend he did because it was fun. Deep down I think we all know I analyzed this situation with a clear, sober mind and thought, “Fuck yeah I want to stay in the Mandarin Oriental for a night on someone else’s dime. Show me the bathtub!”

This is why I say… next time, I’m using the bathtub. I don’t give a fuck what he says. I’m doing it anyway. Just like I’m doing with my writing right now. What is he going to do? Cancel me? Ha!

So… what’s on the menu for today? Oh nothing, just going through all of my finances and crying because I can’t make Ireland work right now. I can’t make anything work right now. But hey, at least I have some great stories to tell from my time in SEA! That’s all that really matters, right? Right!

Off now!

And always remember: safety first!

That means…

If I don’t update this blog or my social media for 48 hours straight, call in Liam Neeson.

I am literally not even joking right now.