Just like me, Ebullient Eve has been exiled from the civilized mainland ( after a grueling year of internship ) to the wild jungles of Borneo. Eager to provide succor to the ailing natives, she arrived only to find a pack of bickering workmates, a crap-infested apartment and a sad lack of retail therapy! What's a city slicker gotta do!
Over dinner, our fellow urbanite Eve bemoaned the fact that she can't even purchase a decent pair of stilettos here! At least not without running the risk of being unfairly labeled a tacky strumpet. I knew then that we could be friends. You can imagine how quickly we bonded over our shared issues.
Talking about streetwalkers, we stumbled upon a burning issue close to our hearts. So in our spare time, we have been checking out the more salacious nightspots in Miri. Don't ask us why! It's like a hobby for the bored senseless. Seriously we need all the cheap thrills we can get.
Nurse : Choi! Why you want to know all these places? Very very bad places.
Paul : We are oversexed monsters with a healthy curiousity.
Eve : And we want to show our unfailing support for legalized prostitution.
Nurse : Oh liddat ah. Don't tell me I sent you. Well, you just drive into town and then you ... hmm, let me draw you a map.
Obviously my fearless nurses over here have their own enterprising contacts. Won't go as far to call them fledgling mama-sans but still...
No such money boys though!
But as it turns out, the classified information given was spot-on. By day the sad lil city might be a tad deserted / abandoned but by night it transforms into a dazzling red-light mecca for the undesirables ( or desirables as the case may be ).
Though still sadly lacking in paying customers.
Ever intrepid, our Eve took a painfully slow drive around the local haunts, pausing to check out the local treats in store. Sliding conspiciously low on the front seat, I was beginning to get worried when the tattooed bouncers started giving us the eye.
But we didn't look like the regular oil and gas boys in search of something to drill so they left us alone.
Forget about the flower girls at Covent Garden, these tainted blossoms have better things for sale at the old town market. Squatting at the marble steps of the local fishmarket with lighted cigarette in hand, these painted ladies offer their bountiful wares to all who pass. Then we have the mature meter maids sauntering around parking lots with their rouged cheeks and short skirts pouting suggestively at the cars that go by.
Even a couple of enterprising gals sitting patiently in a dim, narrow staircase of a shophouse waiting for sharp-eyed customers.
Unfortunately there didn't seem to be a meat market for gay men. Haven't the pimps thought of expanding their repertoire?
I'm sure we missed a few hidden places of course. But we have time. And we had great music to liven up the background - appropriately the tunes of a local singer made good, the wonderful Zee Avi.
Bitter Heart? Well maybe but the meter maids certainly didn't look bitter on the outside.
4 comments:
Hello Paul! It's been a long time!
Probably there's a market for gay customers there but one needs to look further hehehe.
Got demand only got supply ma! You have to generate the demand!
I'm sure there are, chas! Searching hard now!
How to generate by my lonesome la, william!
P
the last i went to miri, their ladies were taller than me.
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