At first I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. I was in a hole in the wall bar somewhere in Taipei standing in the endless line for the men's room. A few overhead lamps cast their greasy light on the ten foot drink menu chalk board and puddled around the handfuls of Taiwanese guys that sat at the bar and stood talking in small groups. Cigarrette smoke drifted through the air, creating dirty halos around the few spots of brightness.
It was then, as I considered buying a beer to keep my blood moving (I had three hours yet until the sun came up and the buses to Taichung started running), that Eamon came out of the bathroom. I threw my new Canadian friend the friendly nod and moved up in line. He was still carrying his plastic cup of Guiness from Hell's Kitchen, the previous pub, and seemed to be nursing it.
"Hey man," I said.
"Yo," he replied and leaned toward me. "Lotta guys in here, huh?"
I grinned, but my chuckle quickly died under his pointed stare. He moved off and disappeared down the narrow stairwell that led to the gloomy, basement-like downstairs. My eyes followed him as he went, and then swept the room. Lotta guys in here, huh?
Well, sure. I mean, it's a bar right? It would be hard to find a bar anywhere on a Saturday night without it's fair share of dudes in it. But, something was...odd. A few seconds flashed by and then, zing-pow, the epiphany struck me like the headlight glare of an eighteen-wheeler.
I had thought that the girl to guy ratio was poor, but I was wrong.
It didn't exist.
The door to the bathroom popped open and I hurried inside and slid the minature deadbolt home. A western style toilet squatted on the floor that was covered in that familiar grime of beer, dirt, toilet water, and urine. In the dingy mirror my half-drunk face stared out at me with sardonic humor and a touch of laughter.
Yep. I'm in a gay bar. Sweet.
I heaved a sigh and turned to piss. Steve. Stevie-Steve-Steve, so much explaining you need to do...
Hell's Kitchen, although smaller than any of us had anticipated, was pretty chill. St. Patricks day lies on the horizon and the foreigners of Taipei had come out of hiding to celebrate it. Guiness was priced down to about $5 US a pint and Jameson and Baileys flowed freely. It was rather chilly outside so we opted to stand awkardly in a circle in the middle of the bar until a table opened up. There were six of us there: two Americans, three Canadians, and an Aussie. Sue was from Los Angeles and has the distinguished pleasure of being my co-worker at Dong Chu Branch, her boyfriend Joe was the big Aussie fellah. Eamon, Steve, and Jenny all hailed from different parts of Canada.
At first the plan had been to take a trip to Taipei and party for St. Patricks, crashing at some local hotel or hostel in the wee hours. But, we decided: Fuck it! Why pay for a hotel? Let's just drink all night and catch a bus or the high speed rail home once the sun rises!
Ahhh, Taiwan.
I had a good time at Hell's Kitchen; it was refreshing to drink beer with flavor. Even though Guiness is, well, Guiness, and I can only drink so much of it, it was excellent. I was trying to talk with the rather odd Taiwanese guy named Jordan, Jenny had met him on the bus, when a shot of Jameson appeared in front of me. Down the hatch.
Sometime later I was chatting with Eamon when a guy leaned on our table and gave me a rueful smile. I said hello and asked how he was doing but did he simply say hi back?
Nope.
He reached out and tousled my hair with one hand and then smiled more, his hand pausing on the back of my head. Holy fuck, if this guy tries to kiss me or something I'm going to have to drop him. I tensed for a second and then Eamon came to my rescue by offering his own greeting and a hand shake. The drunkard's attention diverted, I scooted my chair back a few inches. I was just barely able to discern that this guy's name was Kyle, but the rest of what he said disappeared into alcohol laced mumbles. One of the bartenders was now standing behind him talking to a rather large, bald headed man. I heard the words "This guy..." and breathed a little easier. Check out time, Kyle. Please leave your key with the front desk.
A friend of Kyle's was summoned and he attempted to take his intoxicated friend outside into the fresh air and away from the liquor and the surprised strangers he was sitting with. After a few jumbled, slurred sentences he stood to go. I offered my hand.
"Good to meet you man, stay safe."
It should have ended at that, but my luck just isn't that good.
He gripped my hand and decided it would be a great, a wonderful idea to lean over and kiss the back of my hand. I dropped my hand until I hit table and then hurriedly slid it out of his grasp with yea "Yea don't do that, man" and then he was herded out the door. Hell of a way to start the night.
From there it was down the street to meet up with a friend of Steve's whom I actually knew as well as she was also from Taichung. We would never have found the bar if she hadn't walked us right to it and after a few minutes inside it became clear why that was. I'll mention that the restaurant we had dinner in had English books for sale (I couldnt resist buying a few) and I was sitting in a bar of the male persuasion with "A Streetcar Named Desire" tucked inside my jacket. We hung around for a bit more, had a drink, sang some U2 and then booked it out of there to find a more...appealing...atmosphere over at Carnegies.
Carnegies is a rock and roll themed club/bar and I guess it's known for being a "pick-up" place, similar to the Pig Pen here in Taichung. Pig Pen is lovely referred to as the "meat market" and Carnegies was supposedly worse. Sure, I said, why not? Its 3am (I think) and I could do with a laugh.
And boy did Carnegies have laughs. In spades.
Legions of middle-aged foreign men roamed the strobe lit room, bobbing their balding heads to the rock music of their youth in search of women of which there were many. Old dudes looking for young, willing flesh. It had been a long time since I'd seen that many people doing what I call the "white-guy-shuffle" as a form of enticement. Good times. Things get a bit hazy from there but I remember the floor was really, really sticky. Some woman was dancing (poorly) on the bar and some guy by the bathroom kept clapping his hands and yelling "WHOO! YEA!" at nothing in particular. His excitement caused people to give him a wide berth as they moved to and from the toilets. Maybe he's just really happy to be out and about...or maybe he's had a spot of MDMA. I thought the latter to be much more likely.
Another cab ride then a quick stop at a convenience store for supplies. We stood outside and drank our street beers and waited for 4am. An after-party of sorts was going to get crackin' around that time at a club just up the street and we bided our time with Asahi, Taiwan beer, and caffiene. Then it was ten bucks to the door man, a stamp, and a stairwell to the next glass of liquor. Laser lights split the room and danced across the walls, ricocheting off the late night (or early morning?) revelers. Jordan took a nap in a corner booth and Joe and I stood by the bar polishing off Jack and cokes.
Five am rolled around and Sue, Joe, and I called it quits and went streetside to grab a taxi. Burger King was closed and Joe and I's hopes of croissanwiches were dashed upon the rocks of reasonable business hours. Two egg McMuffins and a short walk later I found myself grabbing a seat on the highspeed rail bound for Taichung. My first trip on a bullet train was uneventful; I guess I was tired after 7 hours or so of drinking, cab rides, and awkward strangers, and I promptly fell asleep.
Luckily I came to 48 minutes later (I started my stopwatch before I passed out) and I woke my friends in time to hop off the train. One last cab ride later and I was back in familiar territory. Most of the alcohol had left my head for better pastures in the vicinity of my liver and traffic was light so I grabbed my brain bucket from Sue and Joe's place and scootered home. 8am: I strolled in through my front door 16 hours after I strolled out and chugged all the water in my apartment before flopping onto my bed and zonking out.
All in a night's work.
Next time: WATCHMEN the movie and why I hate it.
Until then, you stay safe you crazy kids. It's a nutty world out there, I'll set my watch and warrant on it. Long days and pleasant nights, my friends.
Fun Facts:
-Taipei is cool.
-Guiness on draught runs upwards of $8 a pint.
-Sleeping is overrated. So are dance clubs.
-All cats have three names.
-I can play "Happy Birthday" and "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" on the Ocarina.