21st
‘A’ Slap
Regressing a little short of 3 years back, I had just wrapped up a theatre production of Shorts II, and threw a cast party at a restaurant in Kuala Lumpur. Italian, I think it was. The food was good, or so I perceived back then, knowing next to nothing about food, pre-chefdom. Not that I know a lot about food now.
That was an interesting night. A lot happened.
I had my first Graveyard. Boy that was an experience.
Graveyard Cocktail
1/4 oz. Triple Sec 1/4 oz. Rum 1/4 oz. Vodka 1/4 oz. Gin 1/4 oz. Tequila 1/4 oz. Bourbon Whiskey 1/4 oz. Scotch Whiskey Beer Stout
Only mine had Coke mixed into it too, and was served in a fancy mug, with a straw. Supposedly, etiquette dictates that one sucks all the liquid through the straw, in one go. I made it in 2. Now my alcohol tolerance is not embarassing (for an Asian). But I tell you. 20 minutes later, I was well tipsy.
I remember that Avinash came by with Felicity and some UK friends whom I’d get to know a little better later during my University days in Cardiff.
At some point, Erica pissed me off big time by taking a drag from someone’s smokes. This was before I became a ciggaholic myself. Oh how the tables have turned.
Actually, it wasn’t the drag so much as it was the fact that she was untruthful about it. That’s generic in our relationship. She lies, I get upset. Only that time, I didn’t just get upset. I went quite ballistic. Well, as much as I could in public anyway. Nope, it isn’t about the many drags in our relationship. It was the lack of honesty. No, maybe that’s a bit harsh. True, but harsh. Perhaps I should say transparency. Which makes me wonder whether I am one of those unfortunate people who need to run a relationship like a board of directors - with strict (corporate) governance.
I remember the party ending, and me taking a 20 minute drive back to our little two-room condominium at Bangsar Heights (certainly my favourite abode so far). Apparently, I was driving really appallingly, but in my head, I was Schumie in a Kancil. Erica didn’t think so. Think she probably thought I was Wile E. Coyote on speed, riding Road Runner. Now that’s disturbing.
Incidentally, Jeremy Clarkson hates the Kancil’s successor, the Kelisa so much that he smashed a brand new one up with a sledgehammer, sentenced it to a hanging, and then blew the shit out of it. Just to prove a point. Watch the rather satisfying spectacle here. You really should.
My hero (*swoon*)…
Back to business. To make things worse, I had a paper to rewrite and hand in the next morning. This was during my stint at the Intensive Theatre Course in Sunway University with Rey Buono. My original paper got a C grade. He wasn’t happy. Can’t say I was either.
Now, those who know me will remember that alcohol makes me drowsy. Heck, I even fell asleep once at Backroom, a Kuala Lumpur discotheque playing Techno and House so incredibly loud with a bassline so whopping you would be dancing even if you were static. Speaking of which, I always knew that drugs were peddled in there, as well as some dubious sexual activities, but I heard later that the club was shut down later because someone shot someone in the arse. Which to me is quite funny. Arsy even.
Anyway, I could hardly keep my eyes awake, much less write an academic paper on Theatre. I remember now what it was. A mid-term paper on Genre: Constant or Variable.
So there I was, sat in front of my computer. I think I took a shower before that (much use that was). Barely awake, mostly asleep, largely drunk.
I think that was when Erica started slapping me. And not just once, I don’t think. Next thing I remember clearly, is that it is morning, I have a slight hangover, and am late for class.
A week or so later, I get my paper back. And what do you know, I get an ‘A’ for it.
So yup. It was ‘A’ slap. A great ‘A’ slap.
