Night 2: A chikopeh, drinks, and clubbing (I tried)

For every alternate "mope" post, I will HOPE to have a "positive" post.
I have to, if not this blog will be so damn gloomy and pathetic, and so will I.

Hence, as it was Friday, the solution I turned to, to cure my gloom, or so I thought, was Mr. Booze.

It was actually a forced client dinner-drinks-social thing which my manager, R, conned me into attending with his message:

"...so I confirmed that both of us are going, so don't say no ok? Hahahahahaha...."

Erm. Moron????

But anyway, if I hadn't gone, I would have been cowering in my room and crying my eyes out, so I went. I did not dress up. I did not feel like it.

We went to Hooters, seriously, Hooters. Le Sigh.
Skimpily dressed girls with WTF bodies, you could see the muffin tops begging to be released from those uniforms! I felt sorry for the girls who allowed their butt cheeks to be so scantily exposed. Then I also found out, from my chikopeh client, B, that Oh! The girls come from many places! Philippines, Vietnam, China, were the few that were interrogated when they served our beers.

As it turned out, there were only 3 of us there, my manager, R, the client, B, and moi. Epic. Stuck with two guys, drinking, on a Friday night. Awkward. Well, I was the lead of the project. So I had no real reason to back out. But hurrah, luckily for me, the client remembered the prior years' leads and asked if they were also available to join us for drinks. One was a girl, the other, not. And both agreed. GOOD.

Hence the party now had, my manager, R, the client, B, prior year girl lead, WX, prior year guy lead, J, and moi.

I had 3 Coronas, and an Erdinger. Whoopee.

During the drinking session, a member of the party casually hinted that a visit to a nightclub was necessary in order for the client to experience a fulfilling night enjoying what Singapore had to offer. Being the chikopeh client, the suggestion was made for Shanghai Dolly.

We entered the club and my manager paid for a bottle of Chivas, which pained WX who then ordered another two bottles of the same stuff and paid it herself, I felt guilty but I was already dead broke for the month after some instant-gratification purchases which I don't regret (Haha!). I never did get to see us finish the three bottles, only managed to see 1.5 bottles get drained.

I have to mention: I suck when drinks get mixed, like different beers, and beers with whisky, etc.

Hammered or not, I managed to find my way home after getting myself released from the grasp of the chikopeh client, a totally challenging ordeal.

Still managed to whatsapp the boyfie, got to see a glimpse of him through a lousier-than-thou connection and then cried myself to sleep. Seriously. I need to get a grip. Ugh.

End of Night 2 of 115. I miss you, my love.