there is a moral in here somewhere…perhaps.

I was living in Hong Kong during the boom time 1980’s, when overwork and hard core partying were the norm. I used to alternate my post work inebriated attentions between the very upmarket Lang Kwai Fong, and the more relaxed seediness of the red light Wanchai area

My choice of venue generally being dependent on my finances and how articulate and socially skilled I was feeling.

On New Year’s Eve I was spreading my attentions city wide, between pubs, clubs and bars.

The evening was still young and I had the funds available to buy cocktails, a favourite being a Long Island Ice Tea of which I had already consumed enough to create a pleasant dislocation of mind-body coordination, common sense and morality.

 I was hanging out in the California, a club in Lan Kwai Fong, which was operating at an even higher glamour quota than usual, due to the presence of an American film unit.

I’d already struck up a chemically based camaraderie on recent visits with several men from this contingent, so when I saw them that night, I weaved over to obtain some cocaine. My sister had never tried it and as a protective older sibling I felt a duty to introduce her to the drug in a safe, controlled and supervised manner.

I had a brief sexual fumble with one of the junior movie moguls in the women’s toilets, after which I emerged triumphant with an exceptionally large bag of the white powder.

 I hustled my sister from the dance floor, dragging her back into the cubicle.

We proceeded to dive face first into the bag of coke; it was a large enough bag to accommodate full face submersion.

I returned the remains of the spoils, ordered more drinks and left my sister on the dance floor whirling maniacally to Kate Bush’s, Hounds of Love.

On my way back to her I was briefly distracted by a tussle in the service area, with the very large rubbish bin.

A waiter removed me from the bin which I had become wedged in.I continued to head towards my sister whom I had lost sight of. There seemed to be a flurry of panic in her general area.

The crowd parted briefly and I saw her, still dancing in a flowing Stevie Nicks type way, albeit with flames leaping from her clothes which the tea lights on the tables had ignited as she swept past in her gyrations.

She seemed oblivious but happy.

I extinguished my sister with her drink (without spilling my own), and once more took her back to the toilets. I wiped off the powder that coated our faces which I hadn’t previously noticed, and decided it was time to transfer the rest of our partying energy to the Wanchai area. 

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About charlottejane2002

Author of 'P is for Prostitution', 'The Bloody Sacrifice' and co-editor of 'A Contemporary Western Book of the Dead' which are all published by Mandrake of Oxford. Italian publisher Roberto Migliussi has recently released 'The Sky is a Gateway, Not a Ceiling', a book of Charlotte's collected essays printed alongside images of his own art work. Charlotte is also an artist who creates spiritually directed art works from road kill and found objects. She has had her written work printed in anthologies and various magazines and on line publications and has given presentations at many events and institutions including Edinburgh University and Brooklyn's 'Museum of Morbid Anatomy'. Her art work has been exhibited widely including at London's Chelsea Gallery and The Bath Royal Literary and Scientific Institute, and is soon to be shown in New York.
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2 Responses to there is a moral in here somewhere…perhaps.

  1. Joe Cavanagh says:

    Greetings from Hong Kong..( I am berthed there tonight).

    My only observation is people keep saying “When China is running things…”…they don’t seem to realize that China is already running things. Because China doesn’t do the Anglo/American braggadocio thing…… they seem to think China is quiet for now.

    Talk to a chinese millionaire…ask them how they are doing…they will reply….”not so good…my family are only eating rice this week”…are westerners so easily gulled????….it would appear so.

    If you are not crowing from your dunghill…you are nobody…or so The West thinks…The west is fuct…I will shed no tears…a world of earth base spirituality is about to take hold….so enamored of the sky-gods are they…that the west can’t see the spirituality in all of this.

    An age of pragmatism may well unfold…while everyone is bleating about the age of Aquarius. Earthy values in an Airy container….hmmm…it could be worse. 🙂

  2. Earth based spirituality presses my buttons; feed your gods, but feed yourself as well. I have a lot of time for the pragmatism of the Chinese culture (and loved their opinions of Thatcher) although I will not deny its brutality. I have a certain, perhaps perverse, glee in the decline of the Western world. A change of perspectives and shift in the balance of power is part of a natural and necessary sequence.

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