My tongue still tastes like lead as I wrote this. After a long alcohol hiatus I got what I deserved last night.
It all started when I convinced Fikri to have a bottle or two after sleeping over a massage at Body and Sole.
We went to this new Maxim Bar and Restaurant at Maxwell Hotel along Escario Street to see what was happening there. The bar is a little bit larger than my room, promising an evening of intimate conversation over alcohol. In fact most of the couple there were already smooching and one french kissing right in public's eyes. Maybe because the place relied its lights from the outside. Since we were adults, we turned a blind eye and concentrate on our orders.
I ordered Black Russian while Fikri only had tea and a salad he said was nice.
The problem with Maxim was its sound system. Although small, its sound system speakers were enormous for the place. And they were turned really high so that we have to shout each other just to be heard, the promise of intimacy gone.
We came there during a performance break of an acoustic singer. And when he returned on stage, the more high pitched the sound came in. It was made worst when a lady from the audience, maybe bored from smooching in their seat, sang a constipated song which made her partner shout in glee.
I went to the CR and returned shocked to see five bottles of Gilbey's Premium in our table. Fikri said he ordered one bottle only but the voluptuous lady waiter gave him a set. I have to consume three.
We went out after our drinks. It would take long before we will decide to come back to this place.
Frustrated, we decided to party at Juliana's in Mango Square.
The place was full to the brim when we came in and had to stay near the CR. I ordered black Russian again and Fikri martini and gave the waitress a generous tip. Suddenly we were ushered to a table and the waitress stayed near us. Inspired, Fikri ordered a bottle of rose tequila. Another generous tip and we have the guards on our side.
The crowd at Juliana's was mixed. Young, professionals, foreigners, weirdos crowd each other as the party reached its peak. We came home at 5 in the morning.
Literally, as of this writing, I am still drunk.