MISS PATEL IS DRUNK!

After spending several hours yesterday evening researching dirty words in Indonesian (my heavens those people have foul mouths, they're worse than the Dutch!), I retired to a drinking establishment near my house.


The night of the final debate is not a good night for karaoke joints. I never would have guessed that. At ten-thirty in the evening, there were only about a dozen customers there. Usually at that time there are at least seventy or eighty Elvis-wannabees and their victims.

It was an even gender-spread, if you ignore the staff (all male - bartender, kj, security goon). One of the ladies was a beautiful and shapely Vietnamese woman whom I usually ignore because she is fairly sharp and shallow, there were several women I had never seen before, and a cute short Indian woman with long hair and curvy bits.


Typical Patel face, BUT NOT typical Patel behaviour.


She had been drinking like a Punjabi.


No, not riotously disreputable drunk (Safdar Ali). Not smash the furniture and heave a concrete urn through the window drunk (Darminder-ji). Not pick fights and offer to smack everybody drunk (Joginder-bhai).
Nothing like that.


She was instead feel-up the white-guy drunk.


I really must say that she had good taste in men.


The white guy she was feeling up was a good foot taller than her, and well-built (yes, I'm NOT talking about myself).
From my perch in the corner I could see her go over to his table, lean on him, rub his chest, trail her silken long hair over his head...... Pity for her he wanted to sing instead. She kept returning to her seat at the bar, then a few minutes later going back over to his table. She had her hands all over him at several different times. He was just too sober to appreciate it.


She left eventually, obviously disappointed. Her white guy sang a few more times after that. Badly.
I finished my drink and departed halfway through some ickey-poo love ballad.
You know, if she had really had excellent taste, she would have headed in my direction instead of wasting all that time on that boy.
I don't sing.

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NOTE: One of the reasons I like bars is the opportunity for people watching. Some people are really educational once they have gone over their limit. Quite recently, Xxx took off his pants and swung them around his head during a song. He went one better than his buddy who simply took off his shirt for that purpose.
I am so very very glad that Savage Kitten does not drink, and does not go to the Karaoke bar - after half a glass of champagne, that woman would be likely to go up on stage and belt out 'Like A Virgin'.
I have heard her sing - I am so very very glad she does not drink or go to the Karaoke bar.
I just cannot cope with bad Madonna in public.