[All pixs for illustration purpose only]
It was our chill-out time again in Hot Legs Karaoke in Bukit Bintang district, Kuala Lumpur’s milder version of Bangkok’s Patpong, Jakarta’s Mangga Besar and Manila’s Ermita.
We, three fun-seeking, enthusiastic karaoke singers and two hot, sexy GROs -- who know our favourite songs and preferences – were ensconced in a soundproof room fitted with the state-of-the-art equipment, crystal glass lighting and attached bathroom.
Our chemistry clicked like a dovetail joint, so it was heaven on earth for me, Hussein and Chow Kah; plus the good-time gurls, Jessica and Wati. First, the shop-talk to break the ice while choosing songs, while the gurls were prising open bottles of beer endorsed by Hong Kong sex-bomb Gillian Chung, whose reputation got tarred by that cad Edison Chen.
“How’s your week-day, Chow Kah?” I asked, leaning back on the leather sofa and kicking away my slip-ons. "Wati, only soft drink for me, please -- I'm driving them back afterwards."
“I was in a red light district last week,” said Chow Kah. “It was almost midnight already. Dozens of gurls were hanging around; some on the roadside; others in the food court. Guess what I saw? A handicapped man on a three-wheeled motorcycle arrived. He parked the vehicle and got down on a pair of crutches.
”Then he dragged himself and approached a few sex workers standing by the roadside. He went from one girl to another. I think a few didn’t want his business. After all, he was garbed in a tee-shirt, short pants and slippers only, and I’m certain they were not thrilled with his appearance.
Finally, he managed to persuade one ugly girl to have fun with him. Hobbling on his crutches, he followed the girl to her nearby room. Fifteen minutes later, they both emerged again. He started his motorcycle and rode off. Later, out of curiosity, I asked the China doll how he managed to perform? She said he was prone on the bed like a shi chu! (dead pig)! And she did the frog squat on him. It was easy money, according to her.”
“Heeheeheehee..,” laughed Jessica. “A lame man can also be hum sup ah?”
Dressed in cream, she looked gorgeous that evening.
“Please don’t use the word hum sup,” commented Hussein. “It’s a man’s normal biological urge.”
“Jessica, his leg is of no use only, but his male thingy still can function,” said Wati, munching some salted nuts. “But, honestly, such kind of a handicapped man doesn’t deserve any pity for his condition. Eh...? By the way, what were you doing there, Chow Kah?”
Chow Kah looked sheepish: “Why…err…trying to catch handicapped guys patronizing prostitutes, of course!”
“Really? Heeheehee…” giggled Wati, who looked as stunning as ever in her low-cut black evening dress. Her face was framed by curly hair, and her 36-inch assets were irresistible lures that had made Hussein her regular customer.
Hussein said: “I was in the Chow Kit market once, and saw a blind man begging for alms. Beside him was a toddler of about one year old – his son.”
Jessica was scornful: “Haaarrh…! A blind man who can’t earn a living still want to play-play and have kids ah? Cheh!”
I asked: “Which is worse? A handicapped man going after prostitutes or a jobless blind man having kids?”
Jessica took a sip of her fresh orange. “The issue is not his handicap; it’s his ability to support a family that I am concerned about.”
Chow Kah laughed: “I think a monk who disguises himself by wearing a wig to visit prostitutes is many times worse.“
Jessica almost spluttered as she giggled. "Got such monks, meh?"
“That reminds me of an incident – once I saw a Pak Haji with white skullcap coming out of a room in a brothel. Sumpah!” uttered Hussein.
The walls of the karaoke room almost rattled with uproarious laughter.
I was stoic, adding: “Men – whether a politician, a handicapped guy, a monk or a Pak Haji—you can’t trust them in sex! Their male thingy controls their brain and heart! Yet, on the other hand, it’s their natural desire.”
“Whether natural or unnatural is beside the point -- a handicapped man seeking out a prostitute is disgusting! He’s utterly shameless,” said Jessica.
I was defensive. “Jess, assume you’re run over by a car tomorrow and have to use a wheel chair. Would you still want to enjoy sex?”
“Err...err...Hey, men and women are different! Come, let’s sing!” replied Jessica, evading my question, and grabbing a karaoke microphone.
"Yup, that's a separate issue!" said Wati.
/end
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