Archive for November, 2003

reconciliation

Popped out to meet Doris last night at about midnight. I still had (and still have) the strange headache down one side of the back of my head, so really didn’t want to go out at all. Had a quick warm-up drink in Chinatown and then onto Doris’s favourite, DTD. Met up with her mate, and then one of my mates and went a bit mad on the five whites. Had a chat with one of the barmen, who was with the geezer who tried to whip me last week. He said he didn’t really know that guy. Got an invite to DTD’s 6th anniversary bash on Wednesday - free bar!

Decided I really wanted to find out what happened with the Fenwick’s bouncer so went round there. I apologised for whatever I said and we shook hands. He wouldn’t tell me what I said but was pretty friendly and forgiving. Didn’t stay there long and came home at about 3.30am.

If Doris was a virgin, she, er, isn’t anymore. I believe she was, as the entire thing was, er, slightly difficult.

Today we popped out for a walk for an hour or so, had lunch and hired a couple of movies. Confidence was pretty good, Head of State wasn’t.

Time for the footy now. Talking of footy, England meet France in the pool section of next year’s Euro championship. 13th June 2004, 1945 k.o. A Sunday.

God my head hurts.

hk pic

Interesting angle.

got time to waste?

Hold the button then.

consulate

Had to POP out to replace my eau de toilette. Doris will be round later or tomorrow and she’d be wondering where they were.

I have the worst headache ever, maybe I did get hit last night.

I found a strange card in my wallet while I was out. It belongs to H.M. Vice Consul from the Immigration Services dept. I do recall talking about prisons with some geezer.

Still no recollection of what I did to trigger the bouncer.

So I really want to stay in, but, er, Doris has informed me I am on a promise tonight.

Let’s see.

Better dust the cobwebs off the old boy.

amazing

Still got all my belongings though. Phone, wallet, ipod, pocket PC, bag. Amazing.

Unlike my mate who just made his monthly call to me for the Smartone number. He lost his phone and cash last night.

hier soir

I’m so sick of it all. Why do I do it?

Left work determined to go home and have an early night. I’m pathetic. Popped into a bar near work and met my friends, three girls and a guy. Had a few drinks whilst we worked on the intro for one of the prizes in the HK Football Club Netball team Christmas Do’s raffle. It’s my mate. Well a date with him. That done we went up to LKF to meet a load more people. After a while people drifted off for food and girls. I bumped into Doris from Wednesday, one of the Chinese girls who we all met. Remember? Anyway, had a few drinks with her and got booed off the stage in Hardy’s.

Went out into the street as she needed to meet her mate (Chinese Paraguayan electronics saleswoman - new link BTW) and some geezer. The geezer was someone she met the other night. Anyway, I got hungry and went for some food and, er, totally forgot about them and went to Wanchai on my own.

Dammmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmit.

Why dammit? Cos she just sent me a message. Oh dammit, I can’t say. Too personal, let’s just say I missed out on a m√Šnage √° trois. Fackit.

Stopped off in DTD for a while, listening to the bands, then headed to Fenwick’s, where it seems it all went wrong. That was about 2am. Spent some time with a couple of German guys, apparently I met them on Wednesday! Met Pedro and Mary, and one of the other guys from the Old Doris tale. I do remember that we didn’t even mention her though. Also chatted to the singers from the band, they seemed like real nice people.

Anyway, a bit of dancing, a bit of chatting and then I decided to leave. Must have been about 5am. I go to the door and I really can’t remember what happened. I must have done or said something, because one of the bouncers lost it. We wrestled up the stairs and into the street. One thing I have learnt in HK is to not fuck with small Nepalese guys (that’s another story, which includes knives and broken bottles), so I think I’d better leg it and live to fight another day. Then I realise I left my bag in there, with the bouncers, tag no. 207. So I trot back up the road, they clock me and start spreading out over the path. We circle each other while I try to explain I need my bag. They throw it at me and I leave … to the Field’s. No idea what happened in there, but I know I went for food at 7am. Sat there on my own and the bouncers pass by. Nothing happened.

Got a big foooking bruise on my chest, not sure where it came from.

Anyway, I’m depressed. I’ve got to stop this, but I want to go back tonight to find out what I did.

eh?

I don’t often go there … but can someone please tell me why the bouncer at Fenwick’s took such an exception to me that he thought it fit to try to kick the shit out of me?

I’m still here to talk about it so …..





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