Strange Men @ Zouk

Click here for the definition of SPG.

I am no SPG. But just because a fraction of local women enthusiastically hurl themselves into the arms of white men, these men foolishly think that every local girl is game for an interracial screw.

Look, I'm not against dating white men. It's OK to date a white man if he's truly attractive, intelligent and sees you as an equal, not just another Asian hole to poke around in. The problem with SPGs is that they date any white man, even if he looks like the older brother of the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

I was at Zouk with the girls on Friday night when a white man slid between the four of us and joined in the dancing. I winked at Shyan, as she had raved earlier that night about how she fancied caucasians (I suppose it could be that she looked Eurasian herself) and Velvet had many white men. Somehow, the white man must have interpreted my wink the wrong way.

Slowly, he inched closer to me and stared down my boobs. Bloody hell, his height provided an advantageous view, forcing me to turn my back to him. A while later, I turned back to face my girlfriends, and HE WAS STILL THERE!

The joker then came even closer, turned his back to me and tried to rub his arse against me.

OK, I admit it... I slapped his bum. My bad. I can be a cock-teaser sometimes... especially when my blood is infused with alcohol. You see, he's not ugly like most white men I've seen. He had the just-outta-bed ruffled hair like Hugh Grant. And the same silly grin. And with his blue pin-stripped shirt and pants, he does remind me of Mr Grant in Nottinghill and Love Actually. Heh. So I figured that a little play won't make me kick myself in my arse the next morning when I'm sober.

But after quite a while of tolerating his antics, I grew tired. He started to get on my nerves for staring blatantly down my chest and getting too close for comfort even after I've pushed him off several times. C'mon, even flirting requires manners, dude.

So I weaved in between Shyan and Junnie to get away from him. He followed and pushed Junnie aside so that he could dance in front of me.

That was the last straw. Junnie pushed him back and shouted something that sounded like, "Why did you push me for?" Whao... Junnie is a chilli padi!

I think he said something back to her, and the next thing I knew, Junnie whacked his hand. He stared at her for a second then leaned forward to say something to me, which I obviously could not hear. Junnie pushed him again and he backed off. He stepped away from us and gestured at me to come over to him.

No thank you, white dude. Did you seriously think I have the hots for you?

I found out later from the girls that he tried to reach for my bum, that's why Junnie slapped his hand. Heh. You know your girlfriends are great when they watch out for you.

Frankly, it was a pity that Mr Grant-lookalike is such a jerk. Boys ought to be taught the art of flirting. It isn't that difficult, really. Three simple pointers can be obtained from this case study:

1. Maintain eye contact with your subject. She may be wearing a bustier that props her tender racks up for the world to marvel at, and you can't help but plaster your eyeballs to those milky white mounds. But puhleez... look into her eyes for at least 10 seconds at every five seconds interval. Put some effort in the hunting game. Those eye contact, whether sincere or not, could possibly get you lucky.

2. Read her body language. If she smiled at you twice but rolled her eyes at you ten times, that means she feeling sick from having you in her line of vision and will soon slip into a coma. If her idea of touching you involves pushing you away, then it's time to back off. No, she's really not acting coy. Those shy pushing happens only in Jap school girl porn.

3. Don't diss her friends.


And oh, I must also tell you about this young chap who told Junnie she's hot. After she ignored him, he tried again and said that we are all hot. Sounds like the latest MacDonald's TV ad for Iced Latte.

In fact, we must be looking so hot cos he kept offering to buy us drinks... perhaps to cool us down. After considering the massive crowd between where we were standing and the bar, and the potential danger of being trampled to death by drunken clubbers on the way to the bar to buy myself a drink, I accepted the boy's keen offer of a free drink.

He was so happy when I said "I don't mind a drink" that he leaped, threw his fists in the air and hollered, "Yes!"

I won't blame him - he's such a young little boy afterall. And since he's not touchy or sleazy, I cut him some slack. After accepting a glass of bourbon coke from him, he moaned, "You know, it is so hard to make friends here. I have this gay boy look and the girls are not interested in me."

Wanting to be nice, I replied, "No lar. You don't look gay."

Shit, I should not have let my guard down. Cos after consoling him, he stuck to me for the rest of the night and carried out a monologue with the side of my face. Blah.

To avoid such problems with strange men next time, I shall only go clubbing when Angie's around. She'll take the heat off me. Heh.