Saturday Part II

        I was hesitant about bringing her to Fuse due to the fact that it was a club. I didn't want W4 to think that I was another club lowlife, but my friends promised me that it was a lounge with a club upstairs. Hopefully, the ambiance would be quiet enough to get a conversation or two going. On a normal basis I would not go to these places, but tonight was a special occasion since it was Nathan's last night in Vietnam.
      As soon as the cab pulled up I was bombarded with service people adhering to my every need from opening the cab door to walking me across the street with LED batons. It was uncomfortable to be called "Anh" by people old enough to be my dad. Maybe it was because I was with a trophy girl or maybe the clientele generally demanded fake respect. Either way I was guided like a boss and I felt overwhelmed and a little embarrassed. There was a line through the front entrance and I sat down to the left side in the outdoor waiting area before Nathan came out to get me. We sat down and he told me that they were downgraded to just tables and two stools. I was a little shocked because I had promised W4 that I wasn't going to be bringing her into a club. Then Jimmy, John, and Nhat arrived- if you don't know who these people are then just imagine a bunch of Asian guys, and we went into the.. club.

Just doin' my thang. 

     If you haven't been into a club in Vietnam then get ready for your body to be groped and shoved at every turn. There's virtually no room to walk so you have to squeeze through people while violating their assholes. It's dark, the lights are seizure inducing and the music is loud enough to blow ear drums away. In fact, it's so loud in there you can't even talk. This is because the people who go to clubs have no brains to carry a conversation in the first place, so they rather drown out their simpleton thoughts with loud music that has one beat. That's right, all the mixed songs still carry a conventional beat that is played everywhere throughout Vietnam. Listen for it next time you're here. It's played in shopping centers, clothing stores, and at every club in the city. Smoke fills the air as bottles of hookah are seen frolicking in the air being carried by waiters towards tables full of hookers. That's right, there are plenty of working girls at every table standing around trying to groove their way out of the pain that they suffer merely by existing in such a fictitious world. I didn't see one hot looking girl and trust me, I was looking. When we walked up to our table on the other end stood four or five girls, mostly friends of Nathan's cousin, but somehow I immediately tensed up as we approached because they were all giving W4 weird looks. I guess I was the only one that brought a girl with me at that table. There were about five other people that i didn't recognize and maybe it's just me, but I don't like to party with people I don't know, especially people that I couldn't even introduce myself to because the music was damn loud.

With so much fiction, you would think someone would get decent fake tits huh?

       Standing there and glancing around made me feel like I wanted to get into a fight. Most of the guys in there disgusted me even more than the girls. Oh wait, actually, I take that back, there were some pretty disgusting girls... some dressed in jeans shorts to go clubbing- some with obvious knockoff hand bags- and all the girls carrying an Iphone5? All of them were call girls. Iphone4? All of them were trashy to me. The girls at our table jumped and sang along to the some of the songs. I tried my best to look away because they made me want to barf up the fruit that I was eating. I glanced over at John and he was enjoying fruit more than the experience. Nhat was just in a world of his own because this was his first time in a club. Jimmy was busy taking pictures and Nathan had  a smile on his face like always even though he wasn't much of a fan of clubs either. Seriously, no matter how sexy a girl is, seeing her in this environment disgusted me. I know some people like to come to clubs to listen to music, but there are plenty of bars and tea houses that offer live music at logical decibels. Some people like to come because their friends made them go, yeah I can understand that, but I can't fathom why anyone would want to go routinely unless it was to show off... OOOH YEAH! That's right, clubs in Vietnam aren't for dancing, a good cocktail, music, etc etc- it's just for the wealthy or wannabe wealthy to show off.
        It's hard for me to imagine just a few years ago half of the people in the club were in the countryside squat shitting in an outhouse and then now they are all glamorized up and squat shitting on a toilet. How can they hold up an Iphone without being able to communicate to Siri and feel proud of themselves? What's the point of drinking really? Maybe they like to wake up feeling like shit or maybe they like to pollute their liver? I don't blame them though, when life is so miserable sometimes the best way is to drown that sorrow out with alcohol and blast somber away with equally miserable music. Some people like to feel special and service people in clubs will surely make you feel that way. The waiters cater to your every needs and the bouncers do a decent job if you pay up. I was protecting W4 from people cramming by to go by putting my arms a few inches away from her and a bouncer came up to me and told me to relax and enjoy and that he'll take care of things. I thought he was being nice, but then he gestured his fingers for some money and I just turned around and ignored him. It felt to me more like a group gang rape than a club. People were shoving up against me and pushing her just to get by. Remember, rape is not about sex, it's about power.

Special thanks to Nathan for his hospitality. 

       After about 20 minutes I decided that it was time to bounce because the lights were starting to make me foam in the mouth. The fruit was delicious and I bid Nathan farewell. I asked W4 if she wanted to stay or leave and she said that it was up to me. I decided to go for the sake of getting her home early.
When we left we walked across the street where the ringing in my ears finally subsided after strolling around the park for a bit. I spotted multiple Porsches parked out front. John must have felt poor in his Kia. There were a few beggars sleeping in the park a few yards across from the club.. oh the irony of Vietnam. How can these club patrons enjoy such conditions when there are impoverished people all around? How can they take that late night to early morning cab ride home while looking at mobile vendors pushing their carts across town? The bill eventually came out to be 750 USD. WTF?!?! Shit.
I was just shocked when I later heard this. That's enough to buy a good motorbike. That's enough to buy an Iphone that the average girl wouldn't even know how to use. That's like four months salary for a common laborer. Oh god, disappeared in just three hours. Oh... the pain.. I would never be able to spend my own money like that. That's just painful, knowing how many starving people would benefit from it. Don't get me wrong, I spend money freely and for myself too. I buy lots of watches, shoes, and I travel, but those things at least can be enjoyed for a longer time. I guess some people have such low self esteem that clubs can provide memories for them worth so much. Then again, to most of the high rollers in there, a thousand dollars means nothing to them. I know people all over the world spend money like nothing.. but somehow it's just different when you're in the ghetto partying like you're the Great Gatsby (with less style and sophistication).
         Around midnight I dropped her off and I went home in the same cab. A cab ride back home would be around six dollars while a xe om would be at least three to four dollars. The difference did not justify the hassle. The few dollars differences however, did make me feel torn inside because three dollars would be worth a lot to the average person. At the end of the night, I felt happy knowing that W4 was one of the prettiest girls at the club and there were plenty of gazes thrown her way. But all of that didn't matter. I was starting to lose that excitement that I initially had with her. She's everything that I've been looking for, minus the lack of English ability. What more do I want? It'll be near impossible to find someone as well rounded as her in this city. But I already feel my interest slipping away. Realizing this, before we departed I asked her if she wanted to hang out tomorrow to see a movie with me and she said yes.

Darkness makes everyone hotter. 

       On the way back home Old Boy called me out of the blue and invited me to play Janga with him and his family at a bar/restaurant near home and I accepted his offer even though I had to be up the next morning at 6 AM. This was a complete change of scenery that I preferred. It was just us in this little cozy establishment opened late. I had a blast. It was more fun than I had in recent times. I like being able to speak my native language. I didn't even need a girl by my side or loud music blasting. My first time playing Janga was pretty memorable. The banter Old Boy and I have with each other is meaningful because we share a common language. We selected some old school hip hop with some Mos Def and played it at moderate levels and the night wore on as I sipped on my hot chocolate and the Koreans sipped their beers into the wee hours of the morning. His daughter had more energy than me and she's always pleasant to be around because she's fearless. This is my idea of a pleasant time... being the adopted fob to a Korean family.