Sobriety hit me instantly. She had her hands in my pants. A line that in most cases would lead to elation, but this was different. There was no pleasure involved. The adrenaline was a concoction of fear, anger and a stench that I could not recognize.
The night had started with coffee, cigarettes and conversations — a bittersweet blend that was peddled at every corner of Saigon. Felix had been living in Ho Chi Minh City for the last 19 years. He had a relationship with the city that was thicker than the 20-cents-watered-down beer drunk by young white travellers finding themselves in an oriental town.
“Would you like to see the city?” the French Canadian asked me, as he pulled out another cigarette. “This one has a Saigon Kick,” he snickered.
It had been about two hours since I had arrived from Nha Trang.
“Yes,” I muttered. “Let’s do it.”
The doors were blacked out. As we entered, a man, probably in his late 40s saluted me, and ushered me in. It wasn’t long before I realized I was at a Gentlemen’s Club. A Vietnamese Gentlemen’s Club that was filled with horny old men singing cacophonously to young girls and handing out wrinkled Dongs.
“Umm, I don’t think I should be here,” I tired to tell Felix. He was already in a tête-à-tête with a girl who played with his greying locks. His hands were all over her, but his mouth kept spurting out, “Dhruv, go talk to a girl.”
I got up and left. This wasn’t my kind of debauchery.
I walked back to the main street, only to be encountered by an armada of Dutch travellers that I had met in Hanoi about a month ago. It looked like I was going to spend the evening drinking 20-cents-watered-down-beer with young white travellers finding themselves in an oriental town.
“I think I am going to go back to the Hotel,” I tried to say, but failed. I get rather quiet when I get drunk, and today was no different. Today for the second time, I got up and left.
“Give back my wallet!” I yelled at the second girl, as I held the first one firmly. About 2 minutes before, I had two Vietnamese girls walk up to me and ask, “Can we suck you off?”
Now before I could tell them thank you and no, and the very fact that the night’s alcohol intake had left me incapacitated, I felt a hand down my pants and another in my wallet.
This had turned into a mugging. If you’ve ever encountered such an incident, you know for a fact that you are never prepared for it. You cannot foresee your reactions.
Mine of course was getting the first girl’s hand out of my pants and screaming at the other to give back my wallet. By this time I had perspired all the alcohol and was grasping a Vietnamese girl while backing away from another.
“Here’s your wallet,” the second girl shrieked, as she put her hand out to give it to me. I held onto it and pushed the other girl forcefully into her and ran straight to my hotel. The adrenaline rush still twisting its way into my heart.
“I wonder if Felix’s night was as adventurous.”
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