More Toilet Humor

For the past few days I have been debating in my head about whether or not I should blog about this incident. The reason is because I have been considering whether or not I should share this blog with my family and turn this into a "Syrah in Sing" (Singing Syrah?? - yikes, that just makes my ears bleed thinking about it) PG rated narration of my life o'er here in the Far far East. (Not that this blog is very scandalous as is, but I would rather they didn't know about some of my escapades). Anyway, I decided against the fam blog for now, so you will all benefit from this decision by reading about my latest bathroom adventure...

Sat night after meeting up with a few new pals for a drink, 50%Jay and I hop in a cab and ask the driver to "takeussomewherefun. wheretheactionis." (Like I said, we had been drinking.) He drops us off in a neighborhood filled with bars that neither of us had ventured into before. We spent some time in a very amusing Las Vegas themed hole in the wall (apropriately named Las Vegas) listening to the locals sing karaoke. We were def the only foreigners there and I definitely didn't blend in. (Side note on blending: I can def do the white girl bit. I can pull off the latina thing occasionally. And once I was even mistaken for a Jordanian actress (that was exciting), but I cannot pass for Asian whatsoever.) Anyway, that bar is worth a whole different post in itself, but it set the mood for us feeling very Lost in Translation when we left after a few beers.

We walked down the street and went into what appeared to be an Irish pub filled with people dancing. We went up to the bar and ordered a few drinks. And then I noticed that there were a lot of women in the bar. A lot. And only a few men.
Like enough to count on one hand. And the women were all local. And the men were all caucasian. And then I told 50%J that I thought we were in a hooker bar. (Prostitution is legal here.) He didn't believe me until I pointed out the girls reflected in the mirror upstairs giving a lap dance and the drunk guy trying to make out with a woman who would not let him kiss her. But, I think the icing on the cake was when one of the girls ran her hand down my shoulder while saying "Hi sister...". 50%J and I grabbed our drinks and sat on some stools against the wall and observed the scene. After I finished my beer, I got up to go to the bathroom. I opened the door and it was a room with a sink and a toilet and on the toilet was a woman. I apologized and shut the door quickly, but not before I noticed that she was just sitting on the toilet (with her pants up) talking on the phone. Less than 10 seconds later she opens the door and I brush past her. She shuts the door, but never leaves the bathroom. And she is still on the phone. She is leaning against the sink looking into the mirror, very engrossed in her conversation. She doesn't seem to care that I am there, so my first thought is: well I have done this plenty of times when linda and quasi and slice were in the room, so I decide to not care that she is there. My second thought is: that door is unlocked still. I lean across her, lock the door, squat, and pee. She's not fazed in the slightest and there is no break in her convo. I pull up my jeans, wash my hands, and go tell 50%J all about my latest potty adventure of peeing in front of a prostitute.