Get A Room

Arsene comes and visit me in Asia once or twice a year on holiday. We made it a tradition to start the break with a few days of daygame in Singapore before we fly to an island or hike some volcano.

During his first visits Arsene had a few first dates where things happened very fast: after forty-five minutes in a bar there was heavy kissing followed by a lot of fooling around. He was surprised how easy it was to bring things to a sexual level compared to London. Was it the temperature? The humidity? The relative safety? There was definitely something that made girls feel more at ease here. Also knowing he had only a few days, the pressure to pull the trigger was on. No time for second dates.

Did I forget to mention Arsene stays at my place when he visits? Very quickly he faced an obvious issue: when you’re getting it off at PS Café with a girl without a hotel room to fall back on, there is only so much you can do. Unlike London where everyone flat-shares, girls you meet in Singapore are very likely to live at their parents. Logistical issue.

I told Arsene, “Mate, just use my place, it’s better than getting arrested for lewd behaviour.” My flat is a tiny one-bed, not the kind of place where you’d organise a PUA-style residential bootcamp. Not enough intimacy for three people at the same time, unless the plan is a threesome but we were not at that stage yet. [Note from Arsene: and still aren’t’] Therefore, we agreed on texting each other to sync.

“I’m in the taxi on the way home.”

“Ok, I’m leaving now.”

The first time Arsene brought someone back to the flat, it was after a date he set a few hours before leaving to the airport. Here was a good time constraint: he wasn’t allowed to waste a minute. I gave him the keys to the flat and later they met for a drink in a bar. After forty-five minutes they were snogging and soon I got a text saying “We are coming back to the flat.” She was a very beautiful Filipina girl with European origins. Obviously, I had to come home to get my keys back and at least say goodbye to Arsene. When I knocked at the door she was still in the flat, fully dressed but looking a bit embarrassed.

Arsene and I walked her to a taxi before catching our own ride to the airport. “So, what happened?” And he told me the events of the evening in the taxi. Did they? Didn’t they? For the full story check out Arsene’s post Whenever we debrief there is always a hilarious moment when we giggle like drunken teenagers.

There was this other time when Arsene stopped a girl who was on her way back from a pole dancing class. Thirty minutes chat, numbers exchanged and date set. One day later they met and without fail he texted me they were coming to the flat. There was no airport deadline this time. Eventually I got a text from Arsene, “It’s ok you can come back. By the way how do you start the washing machine, I need to clean the bedsheets.” Success!

During the same holiday he had planned to spend a few days in Hong Kong. When he came back he pinged the pole dancer and set the date directly at my place, to keep things simple. I was still working in the office that day so no logistics issue. When he joined me later in Club Street we had a glass of wine and he gave me a full debrief: this time he was treated to a lap dance. She was rehearsing for a class and she decided to rehearse on him.

Wait, I’m not finished! Here comes the most recent story: about a year later Arsene was visiting again and we were gearing up for a trip to Japan. I brought him to the gym I go to so that he can use the swimming pool. He started chatting a curvy French girl who happened to be sitting on the same sofa. During the conversation she vaguely mentioned a boyfriend in Europe but didn’t bring it up any more. She even accepted Arsene’s date request the following day -so the boyfriend real or imagined wasn’t so much of a show-stopper in her mind.

The following day I bumped into them as they were on their way to a lounge bar. I noticed she got herself ready: sexy black dress and perfume. An hour later I was home and read this text from Arsene: “No kiss yet, where can I take her for a second venue?” Despite the bright green lights Arsene didn’t think the date was progressing fast enough. He had gone to the toilets for some strategic thinking. No kiss after an hour of chit chat, what to do? Second venue or back home? Tricky decision, it’s make or break. 

“She dressed up really nice for you, you HAVE TO make a move,” I texted.

“I’m looking for a taxi. We’re coming,” he replied. I was in the flat at the time about to go out for dinner nearby. I made sure there wasn’t too much of a mess and left.

I went for dinner with no rush, leaving them ample time. After I finished eating I checked the phone: still no news for them. In a way that was good news.

An hour later Arsene texted.

“Sorry I’ll need a bit more time.”

Wow she must be a happy girl… Since they were still busy it was an opportunity for me to do a tour of the places open after 10pm in my neighbourhood: I discovered it was more than just dodgy KTVs and shady Hennessy/Martell pubs. At 11.30pm I was sipping a chamomile tea in a quiet bar on the ground floor of a brand new condo building and I got this text, “Ok you can come back I took her to the MRT.”

I came back home: my bed was intact, sheets untouched. What did they do for four hours? Debrief time: the full story is for another post but in short they spent a long time kissing, eventually with her sitting in underwear on top of my washing machine. Whichever laundry program they used clearly it wasn’t the Quick 30.