gimme the night

I was sitting down with a homie yesterday, doing the usual PJ Tea Party circuit. We went through the all the compulsory topics - politics, crime, football, relationships; before we climbed aboard the time capsule and headed back to the hedonistic days of the 90s.

This time around, it wasn't about who-did-what at school, or who-said-what. It was more a 'review' of the many nights spent gallivanting about, painting the town red and brown and any other colour that defines puke. And despite all the holes in the memory and the depleted brain cells that hold the grey matter together, two things stuck out, like a not-so-sore thumb.

One was the fact that we had patronised almost every pub/ club that existed back in those days. Some serious nights out they were. Our tours had taken us from the streets of Telawi, to Sultan Ismail, up and around Tun Razak and almost everything in Bandar Utama/ Damansara Utama. PJ was a given, considering there were only two places of note, DV8 and Waikiki. Just roll-calling the places reads like a where's where. Hard Rock, Jump, Boom Boom, Renaissance, Baze (and all its manisfestations), Spoon's, Spike's, Uno's, Rio's, Twelve SI, Emporium and its predecessor, Modesto's (every outlet around town), good old Brannigan's - the list just goes on and on. I mean, at one point or another, we had popped in every watering hole along Telawi, left, right and centre.

Okay, I know you're going "big fucking deal, so what?" Well, the fact that we weren't working is one; the other is when oh when did we sleep? Maybe that explains the constant eyebags that haunt me to this day.

The second recall was darker; we were running through the list of synthetic organics that we'd ingested during that era. Yes, it was an era. A time when roadblocks were next-to-none; when the crowd almost everywhere was heterogeneous; when one could smoke essentially anywhere under the Sun. But yeah, it's a small wonder my body has been able to expel all the toxins accumulated over the past 15 years or so; I've ingested more than my share of rubbish. Blame it on the times, the age or the crowd. Whichever way, it's a good thing I outgrew it rapidly. No, I don't mean size-wise.

I guess all's well that ends well. Personally, the itch to knock back a couple of shots has subsided. After all, I use to knock a bottle of cheap ass Balailayka every night for months. And if that doesn't kill you, then rejoice, nothing else will.

And as for The Others, well, all I can say is Puff! Vanished the Magic Dragon.