Butterfly goes for Tiesto

Firstly if you have no idea who Dj Tiesto is, its best you do a quick google. This guy is the trance equivalent of what Madonna is to Pop. He plays to sold out gigs infront of tens of thousands. Trance followers around the world re-vere him, shufflers go crazy on him and ravers get muscle cramps dancing to him.

The best part about the night is that LB and I are swearing off sex for now after Thurs abhorrent sex gone wrong debacle. The aftermath of it still lingers like a sickle wedged in me, I can't pull the thought out without causing grievance to my psyche. My life is steering into a course of vanilla polygamy, and I need to impede it. Had it not been for that Thurs calamity, we would likely be humping anything that moves and that is at least remotely fuckable. Bar stools and sub woofers included.

Needless to say that even a mega club like MoS will be sardine packed when he plays. We head there with a whole group of friends that are active members of trance fanatism. We are trying to overthrow Mambo nights and pass a sanction to have Mambo die-hards hanged. Holla if you agree. Despite the exobitant entry and predictable lack of space and lots of sweaty bodies, we see to it that we grace this event. Its a sin to miss Tiesto, especially since we couldn't catch his gig at KL. Ecstasy was supposed to meet me there, but he forgot to collect his tix and the queue put up too much of a deterance for him.

We get there at 10pm and the place is lined with the most beautiful people on the island. The whole bunch of models at the fashion show are there to midgitize everyone. Those damn offsprings of Hagrid are tall. Its like the NBA All Star weekend all over again. I suck on some sour grapes then complain about never standing next to anyone of them again. This male model from Phillipines, Rocky, is hot, I'll suggest that other than me, he will be a good choice to sleep with.

I can't say the same for the girls who standing together, blend right into a background ad for United Colours of Benetton. Tall, skinny with smaller tits than my fist clenched up, the best thing they have is the way they carry themselves. Poise and glamour.. until a few drinks later, they start dancing horribly, arms flapping wildly while trying to stay in sync with the beat and you start wondering why anyone would want to fuck them.

The dance floor is a battle ground with constant tussling for terriority. And in the midst of the sweltering heat built up by bodies pressed against one another, these two Caucasians find enough space and mood to make out. 5mins later and still kissing, they shatter all existing kissing records in a club. I'm piqued at the lack of action and their intrusion into my space.

Another 5 mins later, I realise that they ain't just kissing, but the guy actually has his hands under her top. I stop dancing and start appreciating live club porn. There are about 7 other happy viewers tuned in to this channel and oblivious to the music.

We head to the VIP room with GT4 and Reznor. GT4 goes crazy with drinks and have a $500 drink tab to show as evidence. When people tell me that they have too much drinks and they are afraid it'll be wasted, I always present the prefect solution. ME. People, you never have to worry about copious amounts of drinks when I'm there. I'm a guzzler.

Some main highlights of my night. I don't give a shit about how everyone else is doing.

Some girl comes up to me as I'm leaning against the pillar.

She: "Can I have the pillar please?"

I look at her, smile then walk off. She starts tapping me on the back.

She: "You are from NUS right?"

We start making conversation, largely engaged by her. Im a poor conversationalist, not that I'm not interested but I'm bad at chatting people up. She tells me she's a Tiesto fan and that she sees me around in school alot and knows that I usually study at the library. Stalker.. but this girl is quite cute. Her friends are all from NUS and all but one have seen me around. I'm very promiment if you know me. I won't lie to you, I'm not that gorgeous to be noticed, its my hair. Well other than her blind friend, I like all of them already.

This timely interruption comes just as I contemplate chatting up this other girl in white boots. She looks alot like this girl I used to date, only hotter. So do I take NUS girl's number and say something like, "we should study together"? Nope, I tell her, "See you in school" then realise that schools over and I'm graduating and I forgot her name. Well done, I screw up again.

edit: I actually see her again the next day at MoS, she comes up to say hi to me and in my amnesic relapse, I remember nothing about her. It is the perfect snapshot of awkwardness, me standing there staring blankly at her trying to figure out who she is. Well, the plus points is that she's actually half-Japanese.

Three other people come up to ask if I was at the Progressions event last Saturday for the remainder of the night. Its weird when they do that, cos I don't know what to say.

Me: "Ermm, ya.. you were there too?"

Its stupid to say that. In case you have a slow mind, its like calling someone at home and asking "are you at home?". The first girl comes up to me,

She: "Hey I saw you at BarBarBlackChic, you were there right?"
Me: "Erm.. ya."
She: "Cool..."[long awkward pause between us] "I'll see you around."

GT4 introduces me to Irene the PR manager (I think thats what she is), she too tells me she saw me at Progressions. I bake in my propensity to get recognised. Considering that I was well behaved for that event, I bury my past of random rude remarking. One day, that ghost will come back to haunt me. Someone's going to come up to me and say.

"Hey you are that asshole that called me a cabbage patch kid."

The second girl that recognised me is this lady in her late 20s. The give away was her 1990's ah lian butterfly tattoo on her back. She grabs me as I'm walking past. She is neither my kind, nor do I need her drinks tonight, so I smile, say "Yea" and scurry off. Which reminds me, I'm looking for another tattoo design for my lower back. I usually design my own tattoos but this time I plain lazy.

The last is a guy. I yawn and shall not even bother to describe. I do not handle fame well. Bless the invention of champagne. GT4's $400 bottle of Dom Perignom and my intemperate indulgence of all things alcoholic and sinful is a curse on my social life. Under the spell of twisted endorphins and raging adrenaline from the blaring stereos, I react poorly to people chatting me up and wish only to dance.

With a good dose of juice, I'm a bi-polar conversationalist. Wage me in boring talk without sufficient key engaging words and I'm a restless tempestous bore. On the right topic and I'll sprout enough bullocks to make the narcissitic shrivel. I say things like "Yea, I'll miss me too. I cant imagine not seeing me everyday", whenever people tell me they miss me.

Honestly, I didn't enjoy Tiesto as much as I'd imagine myself to. Perhaps its the over-crowding I'm-on-a-refugee-boat like conditions of the club, or perhaps I was expecting more of a rave. They should ban people who have absolutely no clue who Tiesto is from entering. On that note, the music was great, just that I don't do crowds well.