The Phuket Return - The Dating

The second day was the kind of day that confused me about the direction we were taking the holiday to. The initial draft had the words, ‘unbridled fun’ and ‘leave your conscience at home’, scribbled somewhere along the mission statement and yet now it seemed almost as if we had enrolled in some social dating event.

The Korean Sisters

It was like almost a reminiscence of the first Korean sister encounter we had years back only that this was set in Phuket, they were far less intoxicated and they dragged around a lot more innocence than the last two we met.

I took one glance and caught LB making conversation with one of them from the corner of my eye. I would have given him the, “Damn! You got game grin” but I was in a nice shirt, battling fatigue and the adopted persona I had was, Mr Just-had-Botex-so-can’t-smile.

Meet So Myung and Cheong Hee. – sacrificial lambs to be perhaps, but none of us was pushing this anymore than setting it up to be some Laissez faire luncheon. To be impartially objective, the girls were decently pretty and engaging enough for me not to be upset over the lack of cleavages. They were the very mold you’d find at your Korean neighbourhood mini-mart; the kind you knew had kimchi listed as a staple diet from a mile away.

It was the sort of cordial meeting that slowly grew into ease and induced familiarity. The body language was now the malleable sub-set that was blossoming from firm introductory handshake to playful punches one another’s stomach. Given enough alcohol, I would have sworn we would be competing on blowing the biggest condom-balloon.

That was not to be. Not when time was against us and sobriety still ruled people with trivial inhibitions. When they did leave however, we were almost inconsolable for the following half a min. We bade farewell in solemn silence, then decided to find other native lives to ruin.

The Japanese Girls

I almost died once in Phuket. That was when we were innocently sipping coffee by the café and in came two Japanese ladies. My heart stopped. I gawked. Paused. Then decided I want to spend the rest of my life tying shoelaces for her.

Meet Michie (pronounced, Mi-Chee-aye) and Seiko (pronounced as Butterfly-buckles-at-the-knees-everytime-she-smiles).

LB shoots me a grin,

LB: “Fuck dude. You are so fucked.”

LB knew the look on my face. It was the very kind that would steer the conversation to some point where I would throw in vulgarities like, “I’m in love”. He knew I was sold, and that his new purpose now was to wing for me, even though her friend wasn’t even remotely attractive enough for him to unbuckle his belt for.

Me: “Babe, she’s damn cute.”

I was smiling so widely, all I needed was a tail and a stripped t-shirt and I could have qualified as the Cheshire cat.

Eons later, after a bombardment of egging from LB and the assistance of a waitress, I finally made my way over to engage in a conversation that I already knew was going to be laboured and very elementary.

It was the usual affair of how long we were staying for, where we came from and what we were going to do. We lied about a vast majority of those. No one really bothers too much about details when you are on holiday.

They left for Phi Phi Island the next morning, but fate finally got its act together this time and re-arranged a rather fateful reunion for us. It came 10 mins following the departure of the Korean Sisters and I took this as a cue to marry Seiko and subject the remaining of my life to eating raw seafood.

Seiko was the kind I could observe all day. A plethora of sunshine and animated expression. The very kind that randomly threw up movie catchphrases and laughed candidly at our attempts on speaking Japanese. The very kind I would lose practicality and rationality with.

Michie was the kind that, would get free meals because she has a hot friend. In Butterfly’s clubbing terminology, she would register under, ‘Stock Clearing’.

The chemistry over dinner was great. It was almost as if we were the best of friends, except that we spoke different languages, had problems with interpretation and we laughed at half of the things we had no idea on what was being said. Half of the time I was laughing because they were laughing and I’m usually the fastest at catching jokes. I guess in Japan, they laugh before comprehension.

One very interesting fact that Seiko brought up over the issue of having tattoos in Japan was that, if you have a tattoo, you are banned from the public swimming pools and hot springs.

Seiko: “Promise you won’t do any more tattoos.”

She stuck her pinkie out at me, waiting for me to hook it for a promise. LB shot me the, “let’s see you get out of this shit” look. He knew very well my desire for a fourth and how I’d allowed myself to be tied by promises.

Me: “You come Singapore in December. And I won’t put another tattoo.”

She laughed, then retracted her finger.

Dinner was however, only the appetizer for the now infamous Oil Massage debacle. Everything was going to be a nugatory comparisson against this for the night...

Chong Hee. L'il sis, wild child, Butterfly's best winging experience.

So Myung. Older sis. LB's only reason to give up hook up proposals.