whacky
23-06-2013, 11:49 PM
Hey fellow SBF-ers, the following journal account is that of mine during my last trip to Singapore a few months ago:
On this day, filled with boredom, I decided to head to the land of pleasure, Geylang. Dressed in a t-shirt and bermudas, I made a beeline towards the bus stop near my house. After a wait that was filled with agony, I hopped onto the only direct bus to Geylang and endured what seemed like a torturous voyage across the pacific ocean.
An hour or so later, I stepped off the bus like an excited immigrant arriving on the shores of his dreamland. By then, I was sweating like a camel trudging through the desert. Without further ado, I headed towards the bank branch opposite Aljunied MRT station. 20 minutes and a can drink later, a car rolled over behind me. My buddy Mr. Oh-Luak (Let's call him Oyster, shall we?) emerged from his luxurious piece of metal machinery. He called out to me and I spun around immediately, waving my right hand at him. After a brief exchange of greetings, I sat on the front passenger seat beside Oyster. While Oyster was navigating through the maze comprised of the arterial Geylang Road and its oh-so-happening lorongs, we chatted about matters that plagued us.
Soon enough, Oyster found an empty parking lot in which he parked his posh car. Like little kids itching to patronise the neighbourhood ice cream vendor, we eagerly headed towards the coffee shop situated in the vicinity of Lorong 8. Once we settled down at a table, we had a lengthy chat that involved reminiscing our oh-so-glorious past. During our conversation, for no apparent reason, I had the sudden craving to have a bowl of pork-filled potato soup with rice at the food court in Roxy Square. Being the darn nice guy he always was and still is, Oyster drove me to Roxy Square to appease the food demon (or monster, rather) in me.
Given that finding an empty parking lot near Roxy Square was akin to finding unopened cigarette boxes on the floor, we resorted to hiring me as a parking lot reservation boy. Once successful, we made our way to Roxy square. Having wolfed down my dinner there, Oyster and I headed back towards his car before we took off towards Geylang.
Upon our arrival at the realm of pleasure, Oyster demonstrated his superb parking skills in an empty parking lot along Lorong 10. After getting out of his car, we roamed the lorongs of Geylang like Winnie the Poohs in search of fresh honey. As we sauntered through the alleys aimlessly, we were able to experience for ourselves both the human energy of gambling sessions as well as the charm of the dolled up freelancer girls who were actively sourcing for clients. At one stage, my hand was unexpectedly held on to by an Indonesian FL, who was reluctant to let go of me. I could see the desperation in her eyes. Despite being allured by her beauty, reluctance got the better of me, which led us to part ways with each other. Although I was taken aback by the experience, I accepted the fact that she was here trying to make a living after all.
Once Oyster and I approached Lorong 20, we entered House 36, which was filled with pretty young ladies. Having viewed them, we decided to walk around a while more to expose ourselves to the sea of mermaids that Singapore's oh-so-famous red-light district had to offer. As we were stolling towards Westerhout Road, a young pimp approached us while proclaiming "Hey, I give you the best deal the two of you cannot find elsewhere. Two girls for $50 each, 45 mins including massage. Why don't you two take a look first before deciding?" As I was not in the mood to brew my love potion, Oyster and I decided to walk around for more eye candy and walked away from the fellow. Having walked less than 4 metres away from the pimp, we were startled to hear him shouting a hokkien word. Upon his command, his girls dispersed into the nearest alley, which evoked in us a deep sense regret for not having acceded to his offer. It then struck me that we had just witnessed the final moments before a possible raid by the anti-vice division of the SPF. In fact, as we were walking towards Guillemard Road, a police car zipped past us. Phew, a close shave it was!
Arriving at Lorong 24, we were surprised to see that it was oh-so-happening, in an undesirable way. Ladies were darting past us towards the back alleys and run-down houses, a possible indication of an impending raid. While that was happening, pimps shouted at us to continue walking and mind our own businesses. Moreover, a sense of disappointment filled my mind when I soon realised that the roadside ice cream vendor I was accustomed to patronising was nowhere to be found. We drifted towards the direction of the main Geylang Road, dodging swathes of foreign workers who made it nearly impossible to walk smoothly.
Feeling dejected but with a glimmer of hope, we headed back to Lorong 18 half-expecting the pimp who had approached us earlier on to be there. Lo and behold, there he was! As we had little cash with us, I handed Oyster some money to partially fund his moment of pleasure. Once Oyster overcame the dilemma of deciding upon his lady of the night, we parted ways. The sight of her holding his hand made me a wee bit jealous. This particular night was an unforgettable one.
On this day, filled with boredom, I decided to head to the land of pleasure, Geylang. Dressed in a t-shirt and bermudas, I made a beeline towards the bus stop near my house. After a wait that was filled with agony, I hopped onto the only direct bus to Geylang and endured what seemed like a torturous voyage across the pacific ocean.
An hour or so later, I stepped off the bus like an excited immigrant arriving on the shores of his dreamland. By then, I was sweating like a camel trudging through the desert. Without further ado, I headed towards the bank branch opposite Aljunied MRT station. 20 minutes and a can drink later, a car rolled over behind me. My buddy Mr. Oh-Luak (Let's call him Oyster, shall we?) emerged from his luxurious piece of metal machinery. He called out to me and I spun around immediately, waving my right hand at him. After a brief exchange of greetings, I sat on the front passenger seat beside Oyster. While Oyster was navigating through the maze comprised of the arterial Geylang Road and its oh-so-happening lorongs, we chatted about matters that plagued us.
Soon enough, Oyster found an empty parking lot in which he parked his posh car. Like little kids itching to patronise the neighbourhood ice cream vendor, we eagerly headed towards the coffee shop situated in the vicinity of Lorong 8. Once we settled down at a table, we had a lengthy chat that involved reminiscing our oh-so-glorious past. During our conversation, for no apparent reason, I had the sudden craving to have a bowl of pork-filled potato soup with rice at the food court in Roxy Square. Being the darn nice guy he always was and still is, Oyster drove me to Roxy Square to appease the food demon (or monster, rather) in me.
Given that finding an empty parking lot near Roxy Square was akin to finding unopened cigarette boxes on the floor, we resorted to hiring me as a parking lot reservation boy. Once successful, we made our way to Roxy square. Having wolfed down my dinner there, Oyster and I headed back towards his car before we took off towards Geylang.
Upon our arrival at the realm of pleasure, Oyster demonstrated his superb parking skills in an empty parking lot along Lorong 10. After getting out of his car, we roamed the lorongs of Geylang like Winnie the Poohs in search of fresh honey. As we sauntered through the alleys aimlessly, we were able to experience for ourselves both the human energy of gambling sessions as well as the charm of the dolled up freelancer girls who were actively sourcing for clients. At one stage, my hand was unexpectedly held on to by an Indonesian FL, who was reluctant to let go of me. I could see the desperation in her eyes. Despite being allured by her beauty, reluctance got the better of me, which led us to part ways with each other. Although I was taken aback by the experience, I accepted the fact that she was here trying to make a living after all.
Once Oyster and I approached Lorong 20, we entered House 36, which was filled with pretty young ladies. Having viewed them, we decided to walk around a while more to expose ourselves to the sea of mermaids that Singapore's oh-so-famous red-light district had to offer. As we were stolling towards Westerhout Road, a young pimp approached us while proclaiming "Hey, I give you the best deal the two of you cannot find elsewhere. Two girls for $50 each, 45 mins including massage. Why don't you two take a look first before deciding?" As I was not in the mood to brew my love potion, Oyster and I decided to walk around for more eye candy and walked away from the fellow. Having walked less than 4 metres away from the pimp, we were startled to hear him shouting a hokkien word. Upon his command, his girls dispersed into the nearest alley, which evoked in us a deep sense regret for not having acceded to his offer. It then struck me that we had just witnessed the final moments before a possible raid by the anti-vice division of the SPF. In fact, as we were walking towards Guillemard Road, a police car zipped past us. Phew, a close shave it was!
Arriving at Lorong 24, we were surprised to see that it was oh-so-happening, in an undesirable way. Ladies were darting past us towards the back alleys and run-down houses, a possible indication of an impending raid. While that was happening, pimps shouted at us to continue walking and mind our own businesses. Moreover, a sense of disappointment filled my mind when I soon realised that the roadside ice cream vendor I was accustomed to patronising was nowhere to be found. We drifted towards the direction of the main Geylang Road, dodging swathes of foreign workers who made it nearly impossible to walk smoothly.
Feeling dejected but with a glimmer of hope, we headed back to Lorong 18 half-expecting the pimp who had approached us earlier on to be there. Lo and behold, there he was! As we had little cash with us, I handed Oyster some money to partially fund his moment of pleasure. Once Oyster overcame the dilemma of deciding upon his lady of the night, we parted ways. The sight of her holding his hand made me a wee bit jealous. This particular night was an unforgettable one.