Wednesday Fishing

The Butterflies ditched the usual fishing routine on Thurs and opted for a Wed down the new fishing ground. We've come to realise that while the fishes at DBL O aren't the breed and calibre of those at Zouk on the same night, they relatively easier to bait.

First consideration, the pricing of drinks. Only at DBL O can we drink like we have a million bucks. Secondly, girls at DBL O seem to be friendlier, or it could be the lighting.

The group was under strength that night so we needed to cover up the duties. The line-up was LB, Pappy (a resident fisherman, who had to be contented with stories on the BKK trip) and me. LB was refused entry by the door bitch, in that I meant entry to the bar. So that minor set back meant that we lost about 26mins of fishing time while LB went back to get changed.

The route of engagement was planned for easy comprehension and execution; We'd go in and pray we get lucky. And in between we'd try to look pretty. Now that's where we always fail, cos we invariably always end up looking. Just looking. The SIT rep ( That's Situation report for the uninitiated ), sporadic crowds of fishes, the best ones eaten and dangled to lure us. Move closer and a guy pops up to reclaim his catch.

Group one. 4 fishes. Two of them dirty dancing with one another. LB shoots me THE look and whispers..

"lesbian ah?".

We are sailing off to the dance floor.

Group 2. 3 women. I emphasize again, Women. One noticed us looking and she stared right back at us. She was pretty tan so I couldn't see her expression clearly. It was either a smile with a "I know ya boys are looking.. wassup?" or a "what's so funny punk!" Either way her smile was larger than Mick Jagger's and she's darker than me after a chocolate rub down.

These women CAN'T dance even for charity. One in pink dress had a cute face but her feet was rooted to the floor the whole time, that if she wore green, she could have passed off as a tree. Pappy was into the one in pink, but our better judgement was telling us to move on.

The fishes were dying out. The onslaught of men into the place was killing the marine life. Thank God for the cheap liquor so we could still drink ourselves silly and go for the leftovers. Pappy was uncharacteristically off the mark that night and LB was using the "can I have a fag" trick on the group 1 girl. I leaned over to tell him its a sure hit.

He goes in to ask for another cig. (smoking in this instance is totally a social adhesive). LB tells Pappy to step up and offer the girl a drink. Pappy hesitated for some unknown reason so I move in for the cover. I offered the drink, shook her hand and.. wwoooow.. LB was rite.. they are ugly. We moved away from the group, we're practical fisherman, charity is for desperate.

Nothing left, the night was doomed and we seriously needed to re-think our engagement plans. I was already beginning to miss BKK..