Bouncy red curls and burly red(neck) bouncers

[Ed: This post is overly narrative, and excessive, mostly because I don't have much consciousness left in me. I may or may not return to edit/finish this one. Or I might take it off altogether. We'll see.]

What a night.

The ball tonight was more eventful than most. Inane and informative as they were (respectively), I shall skip the costume store shopping in Surry Hills and the Richard Woolcott speech.

[By the way, the picture is what I wore tonight. :)]

Update: Couple more photos here. Any more would be dependent upon the charity of fellow delegates. :P

***
I had found one of the co-directors of the Commission rather attractive... from about, oh, the second day I saw her. In the interest of privacy not being grotesquely ba gua, I shall simply call her Ms D.

So I had been watching Ms D in CHR during caucus and debate sessions, and on the harbour cruise on wednesday I sorta let slip - cut me some slack, I had had 2 shots and was rather delirious by the time - that I was a little taken by her. I believe my exact words were, "I think... you're cute." Gawd. Welcome back to high school.

But that was all rather taken in good humour, and we laughed/talked/danced it off (no grinding, please - Singapore does not encourage alternative lifestyles, which are against the public interest)... and that was that.

By tonight, though, I think the attraction had proven to be a rather mutual affair. At the Shelbourne club, where we adjourned for the after-party, there was a buzz in the air; the excitement of adolescent crushes from a previous chapter whose pages had already started to yellow.

Eye contact. 'Casually' gravitating towards each other for conversation. Surreptitiously (intentionally) sitting next to the other at the dinner table. 'Coincidentally' positioning ourselves adjacently when it was picture time. Taking turns to playfully grab the other for a boogie on the dance floor.

- me dragging as a guy for the first time notwithstanding. I think she really liked my fedora though. And my suspenders.

A few moments after -

"[garota], [garota] - someone's [A] been kicked out of the club"
"Wha - why?"
"He was pashing his boyfriend [L] , and then the bartender said he was too drunk"
"Fuck. I'm going down."

It was all too familiar.

When I ran out to the entrance, A and L were waiting out in the cold, with a few others. L was visibly shaken. It looked like his face was wet. One of the delegates was trying to reason with the bouncer.

I was almost in disbelief that two exact same incidents would happen in my circles within 2 weeks of each other¹. Yet - it almost served as a reaffirmation of the need for the work of queer rights activists to continue. But I digress.

Almost as if a knee-jerk reaction, I suggested a mass kiss-in, to the group huddling outside the club. Including Ms D. I was actually serious - but I don't think it was taken that way. On hindsight, I wonder if Ms D thought I was using that to be opportunistic about getting (physically) closer to her. Oh gosh please let that not be true. But I digress once more.

At this point, there were a few things happening: me wrangling (politely, of course) details of Shelbourne club staff and talking to the manager; a delegate getting people to leave the club and go somewhere else; A comforting L; another delegate helping me get my bag (I wasn't "allowed" to go back inside because I had "taken the manager's card" - wtf?).

I had this list of things to do, details to gather and steps to follow - all in my head already. I civilly informed the manager that this was going to be a case for the Anti-Discrimination Board - to which he scoffed, "Go for your life!".

One of the most important pieces of information we needed to get , in my opinion, was A's alcohol level. If that was the basis for the bartender's charge, we'd do well to prove that judgment call misguided - and more revealingly - (potentially) discriminatory.

Incidentally, on the way to another club, we chanced upon a police car stationed for breath testing. We jumped on it and A asked if he could be breath tested. But he included the phrase "kissing my boyfriend" in his explanation. I thought that was a bad move - based on all my direct and indirect experiences with cops here, they are not the most tolerant people in the world.

Constable Matherson of car plate YYJ470 denied A's request. As is evident I have (attempted to) collect as much information on the night's events as possible.

I suggested to L that it might be good for both him and A to write an account of the incident with as little lag as possible. Signed and dated, and if possibly signed by a JP.

I told A about Aristotle, a pro-student migration lawyer who has worked with me on the travel concession case for international students - (very generously) pro bono.

I'm not sure how invested A and L want to be on this case. I think that if they do want to take this up, then it would be imperative that they take ownership of the issue. So I will step back, and just help point them in any direction I think may be useful. Or anything else they ask me to do, if I can. It's gonna be their call.

The incident inadvertently came to closure when the whole bunch of delegates with us walked past the police car, and straight into Cargo Lounge. I'm not sure if L and A went on to get breathalysed.

I stayed outside, and sat on a bench next to Ms D. After a little bit of inconsequential natter, she decided to sway with the subliminal message that the visual of the line of cabs was sending to her. And go home.

There wasn't a goodbye hug, which left me feeling a little confused. She didn't have any more phone credit, she said, so she couldn't text me when she got home.

Despite the slightly awkward conclusion to the night, and the awful Shelbourne club experience, it had been quite fun, actually. A lot of it had to do with Ms D (and 2 dear friends but that's not the point). I texted her when I got back, with something along the lines of keeping in touch. And that she was great company (of course).

We'll see.

Til then, I will let the image of her cute smile, bouncy red curls, and that gorgeous green halterneck dress play in my mind for just a little bit.


ps. this is totally random, but I just realised that my fresh AMUNC ball photos have been viewed - almost 50 times - since they got put up. 3 hours ago. Should I find this freaky?

¹ A QC delegate had been thrown out on the second night of QC, in pretty much the same scenario. We had organised a mass same-sex kiss-in in protest to the club’s decision, 2 days later.