Clubbing with Dad

Saturday night was crazy. It started out rather tame; dinner at Achaya Curry for some good ol fashioned comfort food. Dad, of course, had to go and berate the man for the meaning of the word "Achaya", which led to Purana stories being exchanged for the better part of 15 mins, while the rest of us went to McDonald's next door to get dessert.

Then we got in a cab and heading towards UE square, figuring we could decide what to do once we got there. Big mistake.

First stop - Naughty Nine. Reason - Dad needed to get some Indian music to start the night out right. Ok, so maybe I needed it too. Wish we had picked a better club though. For one thing, its a bit of a hike from UE Square to Boat Quay.(Dad goes, after 10 mins of walking, "Where is the goddamned place?" It was funny at the time.) And the sign was so small, we almost walked right past it. When we got there, there were about 2 guests, minus all the bar staff. Then out of nowhere 15 boys and girls (really BOYS and GIRLS) came from nowhere, the music changed to serious Tamil gang theme songs, and we decided we had to leave.

My brother then got a call from his friends who were at O bar, and so we went down there. Slowly the group grew, from 3 to 5 to 9 and finally 14. We decided to cash in on the marvelous 2 bottles of Remy Martins for $300 deal and got a nice corner booth into the bargain to sit and watch the action. There were this bunch of young nubile women dressed in pretty much nothing who were gyrating against each other. Dad and I enjoyed the show.

Prashanth got majorly smashed, and how I could tell was, he was actually spending money! My brother never spends money. And he was dancing with no rhythm. When a brown man dances with no rhythm, he is either drunk or deaf. Even Melvin, the only "manjen" in our group, had more rhythm. Kudos to you, Mel!

Soon it was 4 and O Bar kicked us out.Alcohol count for the night is as follows:
1) 2 bottles of Remy Martin
2) 1 bottle of Moet and Chandon champagne
3) 1 jug of Gin and Tonics
4) 1 jug of barcadi coke
5) One shot of 150 proof (dad only)
6) 2 beers
7) 3 Barcadi Breezers (orange flava - yummy)

Do you know how long it takes for 13 Indians, and one Honorary Indian to say goodbye? That's right, bloody forever. I finally got in a cab at 4:45 am and headed home. Last I saw of Dad, Prashanth and Tish, they were heading for bedroom bar. Good for them.

Update: Prashanth strongly denies being a kanja pisunaari who can't dance, i.e engineer. Views presented here are solely the blogger's and do not represent her immediate social circle's opinions.