Global Gathering

It was 3am on a Sunday morning at A'famosa (Malacca).

I was standing ankle deep in mud. This is one hell of a dirty place but obviously oblivious to the 20 over thousand people standing around me. Bass Agent was churning out hard trance and everyone was going absolutely livid. Datin was prancing around happily and splattering mud on everyone around her - she (nor they) didn't care.

Phillip was standing next to me. In fact, we have been standing at that same spot (stuck in mud) for the past hour. He reached into the left side of my combat pants and pulled out my bottle of stale Carlsberg and took a swig.

A couple of boys in front of us took of their shirts revealing abs that can rival Tyson Beckford. I ogled and listened. Definitely Singaporeans. I looked away when they started hugging each other - topless. Philip smiled.

An obviously drunk girl, held on possessively by her equally screwed boyfriend, came stumbling onto me. She peered at me through her Victoria Beckham sunnies and apologised. I gave her the thumbs up.

A friend covered in foam (yes, as in soap bubbles) came by trotting announcing that the Foam Bar is absolutely rocking and on solid ground. Phillip and I look down at our feet and decided that it is too much trouble to pull them out of the hardened mud now.

Phillip turned to me and said, "You know it right, this is exactly what we will still be doing at 40."

Amidst the stench of cow dung, I nodded.