My first night at the hotel I had only one problem. There were two french girls on the floor below me who insisted on making the most noise possible. Now a week later only one was left and it seems her problem is me… drama ensues!
I’m writing this because I’m angry. I don’t like to think I get angry often, but when I do I like to write it out because it helps me vent my frustration.
Of the two girls, one was taller with light brown hair and spoke good English. The other was short, on the bonny side and had dark curly hair. They invited me out to the club with them and two gay guys from Belgium that were their friends. The last time I went clubbing was in Cambodia, which was really a rarity in itself. The clubbing part, not specifically in Cambodia, although that is rare too. I decided to check out the Hanoi scene.
Turns out, there’s not much of a scene. The clubs aren’t obvious, all play a heavy techno beat that I now associate with what Hanoians must consider “cool” and “trendy”. The ratio between Vietnamese people and foreigners was about 65/35. This club wasn’t even in the tourist district, it was just outside of the centre.
The two gay guys were handsome but very obviously homosexual. Something in the smoothness of their skin and their immaculate, matching hair styles. Both were blonde, lean and dancing very closely. The taller of the girls ordered drinks and started dancing, the shorter sat down and lit a cigarette. It’s still legal to smoke indoors in Vietnam.
I stayed until the club closed, which happened to be 12am. Everywhere seemingly shuts at midnight here, enforced by police that come round on the dot. It seems a bit early, 12 is about the time I normally get into things. The shorter girl has been sat down nearly the entire time, and although I found it hard to dance myself, she clearly made no effort. She told me she liked the DJ so I got her his number. They arranged a date the next day.
She asked me to come along to the date to act as translator, but I have better things to do with my time. As it went, she didn’t come back until 5am so I assume it went well. She told me the next day he was married.
Fast forward a week. We meet occasionally in the lobby of the hotel. I went with her to a bar the other night with a guy who works on reception. Her friends have left for Mexico and I don’t know why she’s stayed behind. At the bar, she asked me if I wanted a threesome with her and the reception guy. I politely declined and sipped on my pina-colada.
Today I come back from a night of very little sleep and a day of being a translator to a relations meeting held by the Vietnamese Government. The remaining french girl Agatha is sitting drinking beer with the reception guy. Actually, there are two and she is sitting with both of them. I come in say hi and get my keys intending to go to bed. Instead she says
“You know he likes you.”
I’m puzzled but the guys are my friends since I’ve been staying here and keep scrounging coffee from them.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Then you are a bitch. A big bitch.”
I’m taken aback by this, because besides taking her to a bar at her request, and turning down a threesome proposal, I have no idea why she would think I was a bitch. I say “Yes, thanks.” and get my keys to go.
“I don’t care about you. Tomorrow, I leave. You are nothing.”
She then leaves with the other reception guy, and I ask the remaining one why she doesn’t like me. He says she’s never liked me, she only asked me to go along to the bar with her so that he would come along.
Apparently she likes him, he likes me, and I’m a bitch. I hate drama. I think it’s a waste of time, but it upset me to think that I was in the middle of some big drama affair by her without even knowing it. The guy is nice and funny, but I have no interest. I’m sure I told her this the other night. She calls me later in the evening because she wants to talk and I have to decline. Why are there so many crazy people in the world?