Butterfly Goes KL

The thing about spontaneity is that it’s inherently bi-polar. Things either work or they fuck up. I’ve experienced both sides of this dichotomy and I’ll tell you this much, everything should be done at the spur of a moment.

Last Fri, we took a trip up to Kuala Lumpur, without even a simple plan on how to get there and where to stay. All we had was an objective,

TO PARTY.

And a mode of transport,

A 1 yr old Colt, courtesy of Ash.

To complete this simple sentence, our holiday was built on one word. Enthusiasm. And crumbled by 2 other, Laziness and Stupidity.

All we planned was to drive up there after I was done with my daily contribution to the rat race. The plan was to reach KL by 10pm, have a hearty supper, then party away till dawn. It’s funny how the execution of such simplicity is beyond us.

2 things we failed to foresee.

1. The Causeway traffic congestion.

We got stuck in the jam for about an hour and realized how much of an asshole Singaporean drivers can be. NO ONE wants to give way to us. By the time we hit Malaysian soil, it was fast approaching 10pm, and the next immediate aim was to get to KL before Christmas.

2. How to drive there.

While we had the transport all figured out, we failed to anticipate the navigational hazards. Firstly, none of us knew how to actually get there, except for the part on having to take the NS Highway. Even when we finally did hit the highway, none of knew how to get to KL city, since we presumed the highway led right into the city.

This is the eventual debacle.. Bear with me, I’m giving you as close an account. Its going to get boring at some point so get ready some regular porn and hit Alt + Tab after every 2 paragraphs or so.

LB, RoundEyes and Ash made up my companions. All of them dragged into this whirlpool of my crazy weekend getaway device.

RoundEyes drove for the entire stretch of highway, zipping down the road in excess of 150km, while the Colt’s engine whined away and stressed as the tachometer revved away close to the redline. The only thing between us and reaching KL before midnight was the periodic breaks to the toilet and for the guys to light up. I was strongly advised against packing alcohol with me, given my propensity to pee uncontrollably.

We reached KL in under 3 hrs, despite hazardous driving conditions, which at some point of time included heavy downpours and maniacal Proton drivers. I swear to you, those milk boxes with wheels think they own the fucking road. We finally reached KL only to be greeted by idiots at the toll booths, who’s English rivaled that of epileptic patients at a college debate.

I re-evaluate the situation as LB led us to a food centre. It’s closing in on 12.30, we’ve not had dinner and the clubs (the decent ones at least) closes at 3am. I contemplated skipping supper but forgoing RM13 crabs are cardinal sins and I could never forgive myself, EVER.

When we finally left the place past 2am and we had under an hour left to Check-in to a hotel and find this trance club, Atmosphere. Did you really think I’d travel 330km to party at Zouk KL? The only thing worth traveling that far for, is a rave club. If you’ve not been to one, don’t. When people start saturating these kind of parties, the authorities start clamping down and I lose another avenue of vice.

Some guy at the carpark told us some other pub to check out in the vicinity since most of the clubs in KL itself are closed due to regulations. I lost focus on his directional instructions because he was telling me ‘Left” by indicating with his right, and I spent the next 20 seconds wondering if morons ran amok here.

The consequence of not preparing a map or furnishing ourselves with adequate road knowledge was slowing fucking us straight in the ass. We missed a turn and ended up detouring outside the KL city centre. With the car running out of fuel and road signs that made no sense, we made an obvious decision to pull over for gas,

Turned out to be the best decision all night because I got some faggish guy in a Kencil to take us all the way into town.

I won't even bother telling you how much the campy hotel we stayed freaked me out and how we had to tussle over sleeping space, but with lodging for the night settled, I turned my attention to more pressing matters at hand. Only one promise land awaited my conquest…

A rave club.

3.30am: We finally reach the club, Raven. How appropriate to name a rave club. I would never have thought of this.

3.32am: I start brisk walking, half breaking out into a hop as I hurried along to the entrance.

3.33am: Two dudes at the door stop me from going in. They start eyeing me with suspicion and I swear they were trying to size me up.

Dude: “Where you want go?”
Me: “ERmm… in?”
Dude: “Why you want to go in?”

I start tilting by body side to side, arms flailing at my chest. The international ISO signal for dancing.

Me: “I want to go dance.”

3.34am: Chinese Ah Beng from the Young and Dangerous extras department comes out.

Ah Beng: “You want go in for what? Here got sweep..”
Me: “Huh? It’s closed?! For sweeping?!”
Ah Beng: “Police sweep! These two are policemen”

He points to the two dudes who had earlier stopped me from entering. They continue eyeing me with contempt.

Police Dude: “Where you come from?”
Me: “Singapore..”

And before I know it, I’m asking some of the dumbest questions ever.. to a cop.

Me: “Eh bung, where else can I go party?”

Police dude stares at me.. EVERYONE stares at me… LB is walking away from me.

LB: “Butterfly you are an idiot. WHERE GOT PEOPLE ASK POLICE ABOUT RAVE CLUBS?!”

3.50am: Unsatisfied with the lack of alcohol, we make a second attempt at a second rave club. From what we hear, this is one of the most popular rave joints in town. Entry to the place is strictly monitored and facilitated by closed shutters.

3.55am: I hear techno music reverberating against the wall. This is good.

4.10am: Everyone is licking their lips. We get the hint.

4.17am: Ash comes to tell us that two girls are breaking E in the toilet and everyone there seems to be taking it like nuns to communion.

The place is pretty much a compartmentalized drug watering hole. Imagine PartyWorld, now throw out the karaokes and sardine pack it with a drug fucked youths who can no longer count beyond twenty. You have yourself, Narigato.

Ironically, the clubs that patronize the government endorsements of drug-free clubs by plastering their walls with no-drug signs are the biggest peddlers and recreational facility. This is the best place to have your pants pulled down for you in the cubicle. Well, that did happen the last time I stepped foot into a methylenedioxyamphetamine factory outlet.

Apart from the ugly Malaysian chicks at the clubs and the guys with 90’s ‘Ah Beng’ spilled all over them, there was nothing absolutely repulsive about the place. Had we arrived here 3 hours earlier, I would have coaxed myself to stay and watch people make a fool of themselves and hoped someone would want me to pee on them.

Edit: I'll continue the post and our bday party at MoS the following night later.