Out of The Ordinary Day

It was an out of the ordinary day. Instead of my usual bar across the street where I head to enjoy a mug of beer after work and watch a band, I ended up at a club on Heritage row. It’s been ages since I went “clubbing” per say, and I don’t quite enjoy it anymore. Gone are my broke collage days when a cheep weekend would be a night out in Bangsar in the sluttiest tiny outfit downing free ladies night vodka Ribena. These days, my definition of Friday night fever would be a cold mug of beer, enjoyed in my favorite pair of jeans, accompanied by all the other regular customers in the bar, watching an awesome band and singing along to some reggae, Beetles, Begees, Elvis and good old Zainal Abidin songs doing the line dance. Some of my friends tease me because I patronize places like Wikikies, Old School, back yard and Cee Jays, but its so much easier to let loose and enjoy the night as compared to a night out in Zouk. I’m usually one of the youngest ones around, but somehow I feel like I fit rite in.

The sudden stray to Heritage Row was actually kinda like a favor to my sister. She had just arrived in KL and she was all hyped up for a crazy night out. I hurried home after work, put on an “extra happening’ costume and dragged myself to the heart of town. It was the launch of some new club, and we had a bottle of Goose on the house. We met up with eight other “to old to be clubbing” people and we occupied a sofa in a corner. The crowd was growing by the minute as the night got older, but somehow our corner made us oblivious to our surroundings. In the center of the club was a huge cage cum dance floor. Some girls we getting their freak on in the cage as they rubbed their bodies on the dance poles. From our little corner, we passed each other the “that’s so yesterday-been there done that” smirk. All we wanted to do was to laugh and have a good glass of vodka- the perfect night, in a not so perfect place. Once in a while we would move our bodies to the retro mixes, and as for the rest of the time, we were completely clueless about what was spinning in the jukebox.

The night faded slowly, and many of our “corner buddies” had headed back home. As soon as our little corner was bare, a bunch of elderly men found their way into our space and got themselves comfortable. They ordered a bottle of liquor and the scanned the dance floor as they smoked their cigar. One of these men smiled at me and invited me to dance. I gave him a polite rejection and I continued sipping on my glass of vodka. This man who was old enough to be my father was quite persistent in his pursuit. He reached out for my hand and tried to pull me to dance with him. At that moment, I had a brave intervention from one of the much more senior and veteran clubber who looked straight at him and said, “she doesn’t want to dance, so please leave her alone”. It was pretty awkward for a few seconds, but it was buried by a sense of relief. She had said what I would have never had the guts to say.

The rest of the night was relatively uncomfortable, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from wondering towards the bunch of old men. Laid back on the sofa, I noticed that the man that had approached me was talking to a very young girl. She was a petite girl, with very long hair, dressed in a short dress, pretty and barely 18. He spoke to her for about 15 minutes on the dance floor and she followed him to his seat. She was accompanied by another elderly woman in a black leather jacket who stood by her. They shared a few drinks, and he started dancing with this young girl.

At this point, the 3 remaining friends of mine were all laid back on the sofa curious and entertained by the mini “episode” that was going on in front of our eyes. What could a pretty young thing as such want with a sleazy drunk old man as such? He held her waist and pulled her closer to him. I caught him lifting up her dress and she panicked as she shoved his hands away. After that, his hands were slowly moving down south, and he gabbed her ass on a few occasions. I noticed that this girl was trying her best to shove his hands away every time he touched her inappropriately. She looked like she was miserable.

I didn’t quite understand the nature of their relationship. She didn’t like what he was doing to her, but yet she choose to stay. Then something crossed my mind…maybe this little young thing had gotten her self in a sticky situation and was too scared to walk out. My conscious was killing me, I couldn’t just sit back and watch a young girl being taken advantage off. I picked up all of my courage, and I walked towards them. The old man quickly got defensive over his new found toy and he blocked my path. I stood there and insisted to speak to this girl. The reaction I got from her was honestly quite shocking. She gave me this real unpleasant look, looked me from head to toe and told the bunch of old men that she didn’t know me. I needed to get something off my chest, and god knows that if I didn’t, I would be carrying a weird sense of guilt over assumed responsibility. She finally leaned forward and heard me out as I said, “ if you want to join us on our table, you may come over anytime’. She nodded her head and I scooted back to my seat.

I was fearful at that moment, these men looked pretty dangerous and there was only one man with me in a group of four. The bunch of old men kept on turning their heads one by one to take a glance at us. We were silent for a moment, and someone suggest that we finish up the vodka because it was getting late. We gulped down our drinks and headed towards the car. On the way back home, we spoke about the incident in the club. For some naïve reason, it never crossed my mind that she might have been on “duty”. Someone also mentioned that the lady in the black jacket was most likely her “guardian” who was keeping watch of her. It all made perfect sense.

It took some time to digest the information, and I played in my head for a few days. I felt so sad on behalf of the young girl. I wondered if she had a story to tell. I thought of the person that she might be outside of her “duty”. I wondered if she had a choice, or was she forced into it by someone or by her circumstances? To her, I may just be some psychotic stranger prying into her life. To me, I hoped her a bright future, and the strength to do things she never thought possible.