The 2nd Floor

Singapore never ceases to amuse me. It seems like there's something new to observe every time I'm there. There was once I was checking in late night into a budget hotel and the receptionist told me..


"Sorry... we don't have any rooms left, except on the second floor." he said to me.


"So? What's wrong with the second floor?" I answered, totally missing the point.

"Its........ a bit noisy." he said rather funnily.

It took a while before it sank it for me.

"Aaaaaah. Right. I see." I finally replied, finally understanding.

You see... the second floor is 'for fucking only'. All the men who pick up prostitues or GROs or whatever from the nearby bar or pub will come here. They charge about SGD15~20 for the room for about an hour. And since over the course of the night, quite a number of these 'couples' will be coming in and out, the second floor is kept for such a purpose. So everyone considers hotels like this to be fuck joints. But in truth, there are a lot of legitimate travelers looking for a place to stay... and the hotel tries to put them on the higher floors for their comfort.

Anyway, yes I did end up staying in the second floor. Yes, it was noisy. The sound insulation left a lot to be desired. It's like listening to porn instead of watching it. You hear them come into to the room. You hear the shower turn on when they wash up, you sometimes hear the rhythmic vibrations of the bed, then you hear the shower turn on again as they clean up, and you hear them walk out the door. 15 minutes later, you hear the whole thing repeat itself. I don't know how anyone's ever supposed to fall asleep with the full knowledge that there are people fucking, right there, right now just over this wall. It doesn't help one bit when you yourself have not got laid in quite some time. The only thing that helped was that I was too tired to feel horny.

Here's the fun part... after they are done, I could actually go up to my own door and see how they look like through the peep hole, which I did a few times, out of sheer curiosity and 'busybody-ness' (at least I'm honest k). Some were thin, some were fat, some were tall, some were short... and that's just the men I'm talking about. Hahaha....

But the novelty kind of wears out pretty quickly..... and by morning, with eye bags deeply set in due to the lack of quality sleep.....I swore never to sleep on the 2nd floor again.

Why Assholes Lead Happier Lives

I was just silently listening to the conversation over lunch, smiling politely, giving a comment here and there. There were 8 of us... 4 single, 4 married. And the man of the moment, was a married man... back home where he came from that is. Over here in this country, he was as good as a bachelor with his lease untied.

The topic of conversation was mainly 3 things; pre-nuptial agreements, marriages (and why you shouldn't do it) and lastly, sex. Of course there was sex. You can't have a table of 8 men sitting around and only be talking about the weather can you?

Actually, I didn't like this guy one bit. He was a client. But he was an asshole in every sense of it. Professionally, I hated every single inch of him and his guts. He made my work life a living nightmare sometimes... and I always got this feeling that since he's an expat, he just wanted to make a grand show on how hard he really is working, or why he's worth so much dough when a local engineer could do the same job he does at half the pay, and minus being an asshole. And personally... well, I didn't want to know anything about him personally. He could have 3 testicles and a prosthetic dick for all I cared. But since it IS work, and you HAVE to be nice to the client, I played along... or at least tried to. I actually lost my temper with him that morning when I thought he was trying to be a smart ass with some inspection we were doing.. and I told him off.... to the TOTAL SHOCK of my colleagues and suppliers... because well, I never loose my temper............with anybody. And if you do, you certainly don't do it with a client. People can get fired over that sort of shit. He was probably the last person I should have lost my temper with, but he was certainly the easiest one to..... out of sheer 'asshole-ness'. Basically I hated his guts la.. to get that out of the way.

Anyway, he was boasting about all the different places he has worked in in his career... and how in every place you go... you always need to find some 'honey' or else what are you working for if not for those pleasures. he proudly told us about his numerous girlfriends, and how he got married only because well... girlfriend number 4 got pregnant, and he couldn't escape. He told us about how he wanted to 'tapau' a girl last night but it was too expensive and not worth the money. He was in one of KL's most notorious, up class and expensive KTV a.k.a brothel there is to find. Here in KL, it doesn't get any classy or expensive than that. He said no matter how classy, how high class, it's still the same kind of hole.

We all laugh and joked, and asked questions.... after all, you're not supposed to take clients out for lunch and tell them their an asshole... no matter how true it was. And being all men there, I think everyone wanted to appear macho and appear like a cad, or at least, they didn't want to be a spoilt sport. But there were 2 conflicting emotions in me.

First of all.... everything this man said... every way he describe his exploits, from how he got married, how fat his wife is, to how he couldn't afford an expensive hooker, made me sick. Sick to the bone. It wasn't about whether any woman was present. There was just something about the way he talked about women as if they were some 'commodity' that pissed me off. I grit my teeth and put on a smile. There were no women sitting around... but it didn't matter. You don't talk about people like that. You don't talk about women like that. No matter if they were scientist, air stewardess, high class call girls or ghetto prostitutes, every woman has her worth... and deserves some respect, even if they seem to have lost their sense of respect for themselves. That woman is someones daughter, sister... and one day, someone's mother. Would you talk about your mother like that you asshole? There is this one scene in the movie My Fair Lady at the end when Audrey Hepburn says to Rex Harrison "The difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves, but how she is treated.".... and the guy is left stunned at the amazing insight this former flower-girl-turned-lady was now telling him. I never forgot that line. The point was that every woman deserves to be treated like a lady, regardless of who they are. And when I say treat them like a lady, it doesn't mean you have to talk all formal, bow and curtsy together or any of those things. It simply means.... treat them with respect for the simple reason that they are a woman. And being a woman is to already have worth and value intrinsically built in. For all his bravado and boasting, I just felt like lunging across the table and choking the life out of him and kicking his prosthetic balls.

I loathed the way he talked about women. I loathed the way he seemed to have no respect in talking about his wife, or the prostitute he never took home. But there was something else. I actually looked across the table, looked at the man, and asked myself "Why can't I be more like HIM??" Why? Why do I even bother to have this self imposed belief about respect for women and all this shit? Why do I have to care so much about people and their feeling? Why do I have to care so much about women and their feelings? Why can't I just have my fun, and screw around, and not care about whether or not this woman deserved to be treated this or that way? A prostitute's a prostitute. A one night stand is a one night stand. A fling is a fling. You don't need to start feeling guilty if you don't give a shit about how they feel do you? Why can't I be a little less of who I am today, and a bit more of a jerk or asshole, or whatever else you call these breed of men. I've been asking myself this question recently "Why the fuck do you have to care so much about people's feelings?" Why can't you just focus on yourself, focus on what you want, and go get it you dumbass. Why do you get caught in that web of caring for people... and wanting the best for them... and trying to be a positive influence in their life? I feel like such an idiot... because looking at this guy, as much of an asshole as I think he might be.. I knew he was having his fun, having the time of his life. It doesn't bother him in any way how these women feel, if he in fact even bothers to acknowledge that they have feelings. He wanted sex and conquest.. and he was getting it. He couldn't give a shit about everything else. If that made him an asshole.. so be it, at least he was a happy one.

A part of me envied this man. Not for how many women he has bedded in his lifetime. But for how little he seemed to care about anyone other than himself. I honestly envied that. To be blissfully ignorant. To not care. And as convoluted and dysfunctional as it sounds.... I wanted to be like him. Because being him seemed so much simpler... and possibly.. happier.

Sigh....

Adventures in Geylang

I used to stay in Geylang alot...

For the uninitiated, Geylang is the red light district of Singapore. Other than being famous for its wide variety of foods, its also famous for all the hookers lining up the streets.

My work has taken me to quite some places around the world... Last year I went to Europe twice, and this weekend, I will be going to Shanghai for a week. But the place I have been to the most overseas is Singapore (if you consider Singapore overseas that is)

Don't ask me why, and don't ask me how, but when I first joined, and first went to Singapore, my colleagues and I would always stay in the Geylang hotels. Partially because we sometimes had to drive down to Singapore at a moments notice and there weren't any hotels, partially because it was the most affordable and cheapest place to stay in Singapore... but mostly because my colleagues just loved having a quick fuck available outside your doorstep.

If I may indulge you....Geylang road itsels is long, and branches into almost 20 over alleys or 'lorong'... each dedicated to a different type of hooker... have your pick.. there's an alley for indian and bangladeshis (read FAT AND UGLY), theres an alley for Thais, Chinese and even an alley for transvestites (To each his own I guess). Interestingly enough, though they did look a bit 'frankenstein-nish', these ah kua's actually dressed better and looked sexier than many of the other hookers. Chinese hookers are the most flirtations and expensive, but useless in bed (couldn't give a good blowjob to save their life), Bangladeshis and Indians were the cheapest, but their best stunt is lying down and spreading their legs... rest is self service... plus you'd have to really dig old and fat women to enjoy yourself (but hey, to each his own again) while the Thais are considered reasonably priced and skilled in bed... best value for money. I can tell you all of this of course, not by experience (honest OK), but by the orientation tour given to me by my colleague in my first week there... haha...Before dinner, I was brought to tour around each alley, and after that we just lean against the wall, checking out the chicks and looking at hookers.

I didn't like hanging around looking like some Chinaman looking for a cheap fuck (which I think I did), but worst of all, we were hangin around at the indian alley. Being indians themselve, it was fine for them.. But man, I looked like a bloody china man looking for a fat indian aunty to screw... haha....

If you want an acid test in abstenence, come stay in Geylang. For the first few stays, I stayed clear of course. But after a while, and after prolonged deprevation of good supply of sex back home.. I was seriously starting to get horny.. Wanking off just didn't seem to cut it. I needed a long, slow and seductive blowjob... I needed fondling the soft and delicate breast of a full grown woman, and a hot & wet pussy to pound on till I reached ecstacy. 500 miles away from home, pocket full of cash, feeling horny and 500 women standing outside ready to do you bidding... what was I to do? Should have been a no brainer really..

But here's the thing.. I wont pretend I'm an angel, and I won't pretend I'm morally upright either. As much as I believe in God, as much as I believe in being loyal and truthfull to your partner, I am far from perfect. I think my biggest sin is lust.. I lust too much for things I should not and cannot have. I lust for the body of other women, constantly. I scheme and plot about how to convince my partner that we should become swinggers, I day dream about how hot it would be if my partner was bi-sexual so that we could do a threesome and I go online searching in vein for a fuck buddy for 'discreet adult fun'...... Yes, I'm messed up, I know.

But even I draw the line somewhere at some things. Up until that moment, the line was prostitutes. It felt so cheap to just pay for sex. Plus, sex should be for giving life, and leisure only. Paying for it made it almost a chore. But mostly, I didn't want to expose myself to STDs. Its one thing for me to have my fun on the side. Its a whole different thing if I brought home an STD to my unsuspecting partner. I knew that in a night, a prositutute would have at least 2 to 3 customers. Times that with the days in a year.. and you'll know how many cocks have preceeded you. Its one thing to want to de-flower a virgin.. watch enough star trek and even you would want to 'go where no man has gone before'... but getting it on with a woman who's pussy can be bought for less than a hundred dollars is just.. just.... just.... ugh....

I digress.

But you know, men do not have enough blood in their veins, or enough mental capacity to be both horny and logical at the same time. I took a shower, took my cash and walked out the door. My plan was simple. Buy a condom at seven eleven, look for the most beautiful hooker around (8 out of 10 were either fat or ugly), take her back to my room, get the deed done, and rid me of this sexed up state.

I bought the condom and walked around... I walked pass this road being crowded by these chinese hookers, and at one look, they were the most pleasing looking, nice smelling and sexy hookers I spotted the whole night.. I walked through, made brief eye contact with 2 of them.. and as I passed between them, they each started to grab my shoulder.. I could feel her breast rubbing on my arm. (Did I have the word "horny" posted on my face?) . and asked me to come for a massage. Every inch of my cock and body screamed for me to stop.. and go through with it. This is what I came out for! Didn't i just tell myself I needed a good fuck? This is your chance!

But I never stopped walking. I walked till she had to let go.. I shook my head left to right and never looked back. Something stopped me from going through with it. I walked and walked and finally ended pack in my room. Cold long shower it was then...... I instantly regretted not going through with it at the time. But I discovering something about myself... As much as I was horny, as much as I wanted to abandon all rational and reason, I could not. I could not stoop to that level of picking women off the streets for sex.

Sex is not just physical. Its also in the mind. You aren't just making love to a body, you are making love to a mind. Sex with your partner, your mistress or your fuck buddy involves two people coming together in one mind to mutually reach sexual ecstacy and leisure... You are both interested in each others body and in each others leisure. The hooker is interested in your money, and the customer is more interested in his own cock. That is anything but a turn on. How many porno flicks have you seen where the scene is a guy fucking a hooker? None right? Scenarios and innuendos of forbidden passion, office affairs, incest are all sexually stimulating to our mind. There is nothing arousing or even sexual about it coming up to a hooker and paying for sex. It may be sex, but its not sexual.

There were many more stays in Geylang, and though I did still occasionally feel the urge, I stopped entertaining the idea of going for hookers. Paying would have guaranteed me instant sex... but it would have diluted the pleasures derived from it. Maybe it sounds crude, but it would be like a watered down version your favourite drink. Though the possibility of finding a fuck buddy is next to nil, I'll take my chances.

So where does that leave us?

Well, you will have to trust that I really believe in all this idealistic mumbo jumbo... or i'm just trying to justify chickening out at the last moment when looking for a hooker! Haha.....