To be honest, I didn’t know, or at least not until about twenty seconds earlier when our new friend had introduced herself. The relief was tremendous. At first I’d thought it was a strip club. I really hate strip clubs.
It all started towards the end of the night in my landlady’s bar. Got chatting to one of the regulars, a successful businessman, who bought me a drink and was telling me how to make money off the internet. Some other customers had treated me to a few glasses of wine earlier as well, so I was in good form and even agreed to have a lash at a song on the karaoke machine. People here like to hear foreigners singing in English, no matter how untalented they may be. He chose the song, Karma Chameleon, which I kind of knew and so belted it out good-o. No one left, so I guess it can be classed as a success.
When things started winding down at work, he suggested that I accompany him somewhere else. He’s invited me several times to go looking for girls with him after work and I’ve always declined as, well, it’s not really how I operate (although ‘how’ exactly I operate is a question which, to answer, would possibly require careful analysis of a manual which was foolishly discarded with the box I came in). Since girls had not been mentioned, I figured that it might be safe enough to go on an adventure with him, as he was happy to pay for expenses incurred during the night. Another regular, a Chinese guy my age, was also invited and so at 00:30 we left the relative safety of my bar…
…and made a bee-line straight for the red light district a few blocks away. As we were walking there I had flash backs of the time in Greece when a new friend I made in the gym suggested we go to “a really great club he always went to, where all the girls knew him”, after we’d met in the bar for a few drinks. But, thankfully, our first stop was a sushi bar which he usually goes to before a night out and where he treated us to a few portions of sushi and a beer. It was alright sushi, but it certainly wasn’t the best I’ve had, even though it was by far the most expensive. The food and conversation did, however, distract me and quell the rising dread that we were going to go to hit a strip club. Which was why, when we left the sushi bar and walked straight across the road into another building, I barely had time to panic. Nor did I have much time to examine the sign for the bar in basement level two, where our guide and sponsor was taking us.
When the elevator door opened we were greeted by a tall girl who led us to our seats. A furtive glance around the bar revealed a different layout to the time back in Athens - no centre stage with a big pole in the middle and no semi-naked girls going from table to table. There were tables and comfy seats, more like a restaurant than anything.
We were joined at our table by a friendly girl in a blue dress, and it was only as she made her introductions that I began to cop the kind of place we were in. The moment of realisation must have been betrayed by some facial expression I made as it was then that she asked if we’d known what kind of bar it was. Unfortunately, my Chinese companion didn’t understand what she’d said until much later, and only after enjoying a kiss over the table. He took the news well, though.
As for me, I was simply happy that this probably meant that the girls would most likely be keeping their kit on, and I wouldn’t have to have some topless halfwit - hobbies: “sleeping” - sitting on my knee shouting “I LIKE YOU” into my face. I was almost entirely right.
Presently our hostess excused herself as she and the other girls were going to put on a dancing show. I sat back not sure exactly what to expect. What followed was a series of performances in quick succession, which must have required some impressively quick changes of attire as each one demanded a different outfit. The show itself was entertaining, although I could have done without the topless number. Some of the girls were less feminine than others, but there were two or three that were practically indistinguishable from the real thing, particularly the one that sang solo in a big white dress (which is not the name of the song, before you ask).
When the show was over we were joined by two more girls, as well as our original friend. One of the new girls was a little bit too drunk and loutish, but the other was fine. Got to ask the first girl a bit about herself. She was originally from Venezuela, but had been living in Japan for a long time. She asked if I was single, and suggested that we date, assuring me that she was post-op. This she had done in Thailand, and it means that she can never go back home to Venezuela as, although it’s fine to get implants and work done on your face, it’s against the law to surgically remove your…well…manhood, I suppose. Her family is supportive and visits her here, or they go to the States to meet.
After we left that bar (for which the drinks bill had come to about 250€ after only being there for an hour), we headed to the night club and bopped around in there until the wee hours weren’t so wee and then went our separate ways. Overall an interesting night.
As for this evening, I think I’m meeting the girl from Venezuela for a drink in town. I think I’ve made it clear that we’re only going to be meeting as friends, because, being frank, she’s not my type. I’m sure the question running through nearly everyone’s mind at this point is “Why is Damien meeting the Venezuelan transsexual for a drink?” An excellent query, but the answer is difficult to explain, but I mean, it’s all very well for people to make passing comments about ladyboys being depraved etc, when they’ve never actually sat and had a chat with one, isn’t it? I’m sure it can’t be easy, and she must have gone through a lot to get here.
I just have to be careful not to get drunk and make a pass…
When the elevator door opened we were greeted by a tall girl who led us to our seats. A furtive glance around the bar revealed a different layout to the time back in Athens - no centre stage with a big pole in the middle and no semi-naked girls going from table to table. There were tables and comfy seats, more like a restaurant than anything.
We were joined at our table by a friendly girl in a blue dress, and it was only as she made her introductions that I began to cop the kind of place we were in. The moment of realisation must have been betrayed by some facial expression I made as it was then that she asked if we’d known what kind of bar it was. Unfortunately, my Chinese companion didn’t understand what she’d said until much later, and only after enjoying a kiss over the table. He took the news well, though.
As for me, I was simply happy that this probably meant that the girls would most likely be keeping their kit on, and I wouldn’t have to have some topless halfwit - hobbies: “sleeping” - sitting on my knee shouting “I LIKE YOU” into my face. I was almost entirely right.
Presently our hostess excused herself as she and the other girls were going to put on a dancing show. I sat back not sure exactly what to expect. What followed was a series of performances in quick succession, which must have required some impressively quick changes of attire as each one demanded a different outfit. The show itself was entertaining, although I could have done without the topless number. Some of the girls were less feminine than others, but there were two or three that were practically indistinguishable from the real thing, particularly the one that sang solo in a big white dress (which is not the name of the song, before you ask).
When the show was over we were joined by two more girls, as well as our original friend. One of the new girls was a little bit too drunk and loutish, but the other was fine. Got to ask the first girl a bit about herself. She was originally from Venezuela, but had been living in Japan for a long time. She asked if I was single, and suggested that we date, assuring me that she was post-op. This she had done in Thailand, and it means that she can never go back home to Venezuela as, although it’s fine to get implants and work done on your face, it’s against the law to surgically remove your…well…manhood, I suppose. Her family is supportive and visits her here, or they go to the States to meet.
After we left that bar (for which the drinks bill had come to about 250€ after only being there for an hour), we headed to the night club and bopped around in there until the wee hours weren’t so wee and then went our separate ways. Overall an interesting night.
As for this evening, I think I’m meeting the girl from Venezuela for a drink in town. I think I’ve made it clear that we’re only going to be meeting as friends, because, being frank, she’s not my type. I’m sure the question running through nearly everyone’s mind at this point is “Why is Damien meeting the Venezuelan transsexual for a drink?” An excellent query, but the answer is difficult to explain, but I mean, it’s all very well for people to make passing comments about ladyboys being depraved etc, when they’ve never actually sat and had a chat with one, isn’t it? I’m sure it can’t be easy, and she must have gone through a lot to get here.
I just have to be careful not to get drunk and make a pass…
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