On Wednesday, I continued my independent streak. I say this because this is a conscious effort; normally I would have just gone home and vegetated or joined V and his pals at the races but I am determined to HAVE MY OWN LIFE so I soldier on at being social.

I even made an effort to glam up in a little black dress and boots. This being Hong Kong you only get a sideways look if you arrive at work in such a get up.

Thank God for that because this was one of those glam parties. Never mind the fact that everyone was crushed out on the terrace with about 500 photographers snapping away at scantily clad models. I would have left immediately had it not been for my friends, who wrinkling their noses, still stayed on. It’s like the rigours you have to endure to be hip or something.

Thankfully, unlike most freebie parties they were plying us with alchohol and eschewing the wine turned out to be a wise choice because the vodka and apple schnapps cocktail was yummy beyond belief. Despite being tanked up to my gills in painkillers due to the inconvenient arrival of period, I still consumed two. And there was plenty of cheese and sausages to go around too, which rarely happens. In fact, to our good fortune it was positioned right next to us.

I met two very interesting boys – one Columbian and one Aussie and actually had a really good time. They were a bit disappointed I was married but decided to talk to me anyway. Now if only either of us could exert ourselves to ever talk to each other again.

One of the boys knew one of the models, and god, are they dumb. V has dated a couple of models back home and at the risk of sounding jealous, god they were dumb. But – and I didn’t think this was possible – the models here make the models back home look like geniuses. For one, these girls talk exclusively to the men. Even when introduced to a woman, they can barely bring themselve to tear their eyes away from the target guy at whom they are simpering. Never mind that their eyes have glazed over and they cannot seem to understand a thing the guys are saying. These guys, unlike other Hong Kong men continued to be whacky and didn’t talk down to them which is usually the case, so the girl was really lost. So that why expat guys think they should talk to everyone like that because in most cases if they don’t they get a glazed look and no action.

Vaguely amusing conversation
Columbian boy to moi: Sooo is it normal for Indian women to wear their engagement rings on their right hand?
Moi: Um, I just don’t like wearing it on the same finger as my wedding ring.
CB: Huh? What wedding ring?
Moi: This one. (Holding up ring finger on left hand)
CB: Hmph! What have I been wasting my time talking to you for the last half hour then.

And then we went on for the next half an hour.

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