The area i stayed is known as Bugis....once a haven for Empire troops..to relieve seed in the dark passages or what ever small privacy one found in those distant days...old soldiers will laugh and tell you tales of the Lady Boys..whom looked so fabulous you had to run your hand beyond the thigh to know which gender was on offer....all this alas has gone and Bugis is wall to wall crazy shopping for trinkets and the smallest of female clothing...some shorts, mini, skirts so tiny not even a pimple would they cover,i found much delight touching and giggling to myself....now that my body size is way past the pimple it once was....the heat the bustle thronged human flesh eventually pushes you out one end carried on a tide of noise strange smells from exotic fruits in all shapes make you wonder if..???.
On my last morning as i drifted to the underground station i paused to meet old ghosts who once frequented, buggered, behind the shutters of Raffles..the famous Singapore hotel where tourists today flock to the long bar for a taste of a... Singapore Sling.... a pink looking cocktail, such is the demand there is no time to make from scratch in the moment....demanded.....i sat at this long bar hoping Somerset Maugham and the Razors Edge would whisper in my ear...i expected him to say..you crazy bitch you paid how much for a pint of foaming mirth...a whole ten English pounds...Ha....my only comments to myself are it is the longest timed pint i have ever drunk and the young lad who shook out via electronica Singapore slings was a dream to the eyes and mind....and probably the last time i will sit at the long bar as i am not getting any younger and sometimes you have to spoil your self by closing the eyes and going ho-hum..i will simply now leave it to the rich to flutter away..as they know best.
Raffles hotel is built in open side quads in three floors you can freely wander around the old non resident parts which house a whole room of history..photo's..letters...telegrames..ballrooms...outside the ballroom are a couple of four seat sets so lapsed by human traffic you could quite easily sit and spend the night,without any hindrance from staff....the rest rooms as this hotel likes to think..no bogs..shit houses for those who command us...are full of marble, gold taps and plenty of space to swing a cat the erotic things you could do in those perfumed walls brings on a fit of giggles..you could say you fucked amongst the old ghosts of Maugham.Coward,Conrad....would that be bliss or simply the heat frying away at the gray matter...
