... I went to the Danny Tenaglia gig at Zouk with the gang last Saturday night, but not before getting horrendously drunk on Jaegerbombs at Taboo.
For those who are not acquanted with Mr Jaegerbomb, let me simply describe it as a full shot of Jaegermeister (an alcohol that tastes like cough syrup) slammed into a glass of red bull. It's absolutely VILE.
Well, they are looking up to me only in the literal sense of the word. Because I was standing on the podium in my 4 inch heels that night. It was a very bad choice of footwear. I wasn't expecting to go clubbing. It was only supposed to be a civilised dinner. But whatever it is, I have THE King of Trance spinning right in front of me so heels or no heels, I have to dance. And the music was awesome! My hands are waving, my legs are kicking, my head is pumping and the Jaegerbombs, Apple Drops and AK54, 42 and 7s are all being friends in my belly. And my feet is KILLING me.
After about an hour, I was ready to get off the podium and find somewhere to sit down and rest my feet, but then this chick suddenly push her way up to where I am and started dancing wildly in front of me. She had long wavy hair and she was swishing them in my face. Her limbs are flailing about and she was "sex dancing" with her boyfriend who was standing just below her.
I stared at the back of her head. Then I look down at The Toe (who was dancing on the dancefloor in front of me. She didn't want to perform.). I gave Toe a quizzical look and I signaled to her, "Should I just go?" and the Toe gave me a fierce scowl and signalled back, "ELBOW THAT B**** AND GET HER OUT OF THERE!"
So, I complied. Even though I have no interest in staying on the podium. Even though my feet is KILLING me. Because my BFF tells me so.
Anyway, to cut to the chase, the battle was short and swift. I got her out of the podium in no time. And then I have another problem. I have to stay there. It looks riduculous for me to elbow someone off and then get off myself, right?
So another 45 minutes on the podium...
And till this afternoon (it's Monday now), my swollen feet remains the size of a baby elephant's feet.
So, instead of my usual work heels, I have to wear my comfort flat shoes to work today. The one that gives me wings.
HR Girl At Work: Wah, Frou! I can see your shoes from far away! Can fly ar?
Frou: Cannnn.....
For those who are not acquanted with Mr Jaegerbomb, let me simply describe it as a full shot of Jaegermeister (an alcohol that tastes like cough syrup) slammed into a glass of red bull. It's absolutely VILE.Anyway, when we reached Zouk, we had a few other shots of apple drops and AK52 (or 42? or 7?) and once we are satisfied that we are truly off our heads, we hit the dance floor just before Danny Tegnaglia came on.
Willy, of course, dragged me up on the podium. Gay guys never like to dance on the same level as everyone else. And when you are on the podium, I was told to "Perform darling, perform. People look up to you, you know."
Well, they are looking up to me only in the literal sense of the word. Because I was standing on the podium in my 4 inch heels that night. It was a very bad choice of footwear. I wasn't expecting to go clubbing. It was only supposed to be a civilised dinner. But whatever it is, I have THE King of Trance spinning right in front of me so heels or no heels, I have to dance. And the music was awesome! My hands are waving, my legs are kicking, my head is pumping and the Jaegerbombs, Apple Drops and AK54, 42 and 7s are all being friends in my belly. And my feet is KILLING me.
After about an hour, I was ready to get off the podium and find somewhere to sit down and rest my feet, but then this chick suddenly push her way up to where I am and started dancing wildly in front of me. She had long wavy hair and she was swishing them in my face. Her limbs are flailing about and she was "sex dancing" with her boyfriend who was standing just below her.
I stared at the back of her head. Then I look down at The Toe (who was dancing on the dancefloor in front of me. She didn't want to perform.). I gave Toe a quizzical look and I signaled to her, "Should I just go?" and the Toe gave me a fierce scowl and signalled back, "ELBOW THAT B**** AND GET HER OUT OF THERE!"
So, I complied. Even though I have no interest in staying on the podium. Even though my feet is KILLING me. Because my BFF tells me so.
Anyway, to cut to the chase, the battle was short and swift. I got her out of the podium in no time. And then I have another problem. I have to stay there. It looks riduculous for me to elbow someone off and then get off myself, right?
So another 45 minutes on the podium...
And till this afternoon (it's Monday now), my swollen feet remains the size of a baby elephant's feet.
So, instead of my usual work heels, I have to wear my comfort flat shoes to work today. The one that gives me wings.
HR Girl At Work: Wah, Frou! I can see your shoes from far away! Can fly ar?
Frou: Cannnn.....
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| Surely I can take off in these... |
3 comments:
Erm...AK47 is a big bad gun... We drank B52s...which is an equally vile combination of Baileys, Kahlua and Amaretto. It's all alcohol, baby!
I screamed at Danny Tenaglia. So in addition to elephant feet, I have a sore throat.
The Frou and Toe party like it's 1999...
ak47 is an assault rifle. b52 is a bomber. so i guess both are deadly. haha. is that the adidas js ballerinas? where did you get it?
I can't believe I said AK47!! I AM SUCH AN ALIBABA! HAHAHHAHAHA!
Wow Shin, you recognized the shoes! Yes, it's Jeremy Scott for Adidas. I am such a fan. I'm now looking for his winged Swatch watch!
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