Twice Bitten, Still Shy (06/01/05)
"You didn't know that rock n' roll burned
so you bought a candle and you loved and you learned
you got the rhythm, you got the speed
mamma's little baby likes it short and sweet"
"Once bitten twice shy, babe"
(Ian Hunter)
In my case it’s a lot more like twice bitten still shy.
This is a traveling tale of a double-ass-whooping dealt without remorse by international cougs.
We start in Bali, Indonesia. After a few days of trying to find our bearings, my good friend Mike and I
were ready to see what kind of nightlife the little island had to offer. We started off the night by pounding $1
Bintang beers in our hotel room. Confidence rousing, we descended to the hotel lobby and asked Wayan,
the doorman where to go chase "cewek cantik" (beautiful girls.) With an ear to ear grin full of missing teeth
and a clove cigarette dangling from a frothy corner, Wayan told us there was only one place that could provide
what we were looking for. It was called the Sari Club.
Mike and I giddily ambled to the outdoor club which was a stone’s throw from our hotel room.
Immediately upon entering we knew we had found a true den. There were scantily clad teeny-boppers,
ranging to even more lecherously clad 30-somethings. The attire of choice being short skirts and bikini tops,
some wore it much better than others. The majority of the ladies seemed to be from Australia, but there were still
plenty of mush-mouthed glottal sounding barks for drinks, which could only come from Scandinavians. Mike and I
headed for the bar and started drinking the local swill, made of fermented something or another, packaged in a noxious
brew called an "Arak Atak." They get you hammered.
Our circle of new friends seemed to be swelling in perfect step with our increasing buzz. I don’t remember exactly
how we started speaking, but before I knew better I was praising the beauty of Australia (where I have never been) to a
stewardess by the name of Prue. Oh yes, I am not likely to forget her name as I have a sweet and disgusting looking scar
on my shin to remind me of her sharp teeth.
Prue was a very fit 35 something blond. She had the wiry and taught body of a woman in her thirties that takes her
fitness seriously. Prue had blond hair, and a very dirty mouth to boot. In retrospect, her choice of words was
indicative of her knowing she had a naive puppy in her hands. She had only to put her mouth close to my ear and whisper
on hot breath some of the things she planned to do to me, and we were already en route to her hotel.
I had never been with a woman past 25, let alone 35, and this one was deliciously nasty. As we were en route to her
hotel room, the balmy night air changed to a torrential downpour. Possibly a harbinger of what was to come. Her hotel
was not far, and before long we were making out in the pool, rain falling hard - awesome. With her devilish cougar tongue
and foul Aussie mouth, she continued to inform me between deep breaths and bites of what was to come. We both were
very excited, and started scrambling for the steps of the pool to take us back to her room. She was leading in front,
pulling me by the hand as we exited the pool. Eye on the prize, and not on the rain-slicked stairs, and being pulled by
a cougar who smelled blood... well you probably get the idea by now. I took three steps on the slick floor and went to
step up, trying to keep up with Prue. She was moving so fast and pulling my hand trying to get me to keep up....
My back foot slipped in front of a foot high marble stair, and my shin came cracking down on the sharp edge, exploding
the paper thin layer of skin, completely exposing my leg guts and smattering both of us with blood. In my sex crazed
mind I was still trying to find a way to make it work... maybe it wasn’t that bad of an injury? Wrong. The extent of
the "play" I thought I was going to get in her hotel room ended up being grabbing a beach towel, tying it tightly around
the leg, quick kiss goodbye, and then running, hammered, dejected, and severely injured down the muddy back streets of
Bali looking for a cab to take me to the hospital.
Cougar: 1 Me: 0
I ended up getting some stitches to close up the wound on my shin. As we were on a surf trip, the stitches entirely
prevented me from being able to be in the water for two weeks. I decided to take the time out of the water to go to
Thailand, you know, absorb some culture.
I was excited to take a trip by myself. For the most part, the trip was full of long hikes, visits to places like the
Bridge of the River Kwai, and great food. My last night in a town called Kanchanaburi, I got belligerently wasted with a
group of Scottish girls. I woke in the morning, head pounding, possibly worst hangover I had ever experienced. While
waiting for the bus to take me back to Bangkok, I fended off an admiring Thai lady-boy, and succumbed to the verge of
vomiting for a long hot ride back to the capital.
Upon arrival, I found my way to Kao San road, found a cheap hotel and went to the room. Disgusting doesn’t begin to explain.
Incomplete walls with obscenities scrawled by dipshits, a dirty mattress without sheets, and a flimsy door without a
working lock. Well worth the $3US.
As the hangover I earned the night before was considerably higher maintenance than the hotel room could handle,
I ventured to the bustling street to find something to eat and drink. There are restaurants which feature bootlegged
American movies everywhere. I found one with air conditioning and "Saving Private Ryan." Paired with some spicy Thai
food, not really an excellent choice for hangover repair. Teetering on the edge of projectile vomiting I hung my head
in my hands and prayed for relief.
In the worst throes of pain, I felt a hand on my arm and a soothing voice with a Kiwi accent. She understood my pain
and we didn’t even know each other! A very attractive, and again 30 something year old New Zealander was asking me if
she could join me. Turns out she was a nurse and knew how to get rid of my pain... whiskey.
She ordered whiskey cokes, and in Thailand that means you get a small bottle of whiskey, a bucket of ice, and a bunch
of cokes resting on top of the ice.
I muscled down a few sips, and amazingly I started to not only feel better, but rather good. Here was an attractive
older woman helping me through some real pain! She was real interesting, wearing a very short skirt to comply with the
sweltering heat, and very much seemed able to drink me under the table. We went through two rounds of whiskey and then
she offered to take me out in Bangkok.
I couldn’t tell if she was just another traveler looking for company, or a cougar on the prowl. Hammered, again,
I was certainly hoping for the latter. As we started getting real sloppy, she offered to take me to the Patpong district
for more sightseeing. Amidst flying ping pong balls and cokes being opened with vaginas to poor house music, a drunk
Aussie tried to mack on my Kiwi hostess. In response, she grabbed me by the back of my head and started aggressively
slamming her tongue in and out of my face, as in all of it. No confusion about where she stood any longer.
I remember taking a rickshaw back to her hotel room, but at this point the drinks and the previous night had me in
borderline black out. Not much talking going on at this point, she took me back to her room and was naked before I had
an opportunity to sit down. At this point I was getting the spins really badly. The dizziness from too much whiskey
compounded by her aggressively licking style on my face made my puking intentions from earlier return like two Thai boxers
duking it out in my guts.
I had to puke. I excused myself and asked where the bathroom was as her hotel room was as cheap as mine, and the WC
was communal and down the stairs. She pointed in the direction of the stairs and told me to hurry back, utterly
unsympathetic. I successfully made it down the stairs and saw the bathroom door. I also saw the front door/exit.
I knew I had to run for my life.
I went for the front door. With her sharp cougar ears she knew what was happening and pounced down the stairs wearing
only her underwear. "Where do you think you’re going?!" I remember hearing. I tried to explain she was a very beautiful
Kiwi but I didn’t feel good. She screamed, "I’m a very disappointed Kiwi" and stared a hole right through my then
cross-eyed attempt to make eye contact. Tail between my legs, I walked out of the hotel, puked in the bushes, and chalked
another ass kicking up for the Cougs.
In one week,
Cougars:2 Me:0
