Blanchard's' Oriental Travel Journal

Of course the Kuala Lumpur Hard Rock Cafe is the best of all HRC's throughout the world according to the seasoned HRC city hoppers. It certainly has the highest turnover of any in the world say those that know, the high point being the half hour just before closing time on weekends when the lights go down and all the bar staff jump on top of the bar and dance to a medley of Rock and Roll songs from the time of my youth. The more vigorous of the bar staff belt the bejeezus out of the metal bar with any hard instrument around at the time (not a difficult thing to find in this place) in rhythm to the beat. Bar service is impossible to obtain, which by the look of the patrons hanging off the bar at this time is a blessing in disguise but a let down for the white coated police breath test team hanging around down the road at Jalan Sultan Ismail. For the more detail minded the songs in approximate (Yes, it was late and the local Carlsberg is somewhat more-ish) order are: "Rock around the Clock", "Love me Do", and culminating in the definitive HRC-KL/Otis Redding version of "Shout".

Still back to last night and forgetting about past experience, Nora didn't turn up (SPG speak for "I found a new gweilo since I rang who looks like he has a bigger wallet so stuff you"), but I met a trio of my Belgian friends..the engineer working on the KLCC project, the medical instruments sales manager who is one of the richest men in KL, and his Malay girlfriend who insists on kissing me three times on opposite cheeks in the traditional French fashion in fond greeting and farewell. You couldn't move at that time last night such was the extent of the crowd.

....and then I met Honey.. ...Honey Chung to be exact, or that is what her business card says which I have on the desk next to me right now....who turned out to be a hand phone sales person who earns 3 to 4000 Ringitt a month out for a great time with her friends. She was also great at one-liner put-downs, delivered with vicious eloquence 10 seconds after delivering equally practised innocent come-ons.......and what a dancer.. Thankfully her dress (what there was of it) stayed on by an incredible feat of gravity, I got introduced to all her yuppie friends and she celebrated the rest of Prophet Mohammed's birthday by swilling copious amounts of Vodka and Limes and getting more and more tactile with yours truly. In fact I've still got a bit of a rash today from the constant friction with one of those black dresses with the little bumps all over the material. As a finale to the night she slowly but with great determination slid off her bar stool in a drunken stupor to the sticky HRC floor (while still maintaining that wonderful smile).

I delivered the recalcitrant Honey lump back to her friends, avoiding their stares (....Hey I thought you were looking after her!...), slunk out into the darkness of the night and with a quick apprehensive look around for any hungry ghosts in the approximate vicinity slid into the nearest cab seat. The moon peeked cautiously out from behind some clouds. The lights along Jalan Raja Chulun reflected eerily upon the giant puddles left by a recent thunderstorm. Weird music emanated from the cracked radio speaker of the taxi 6 inches from my right ear.

The only hungry ghost around tonight was the cabbie...... who charged me 6 Ringitt for a 2 kilometer journey back to the hotel.

Finally at 1am we made our way past the well built penguins guarding the entrance and to my dismay headed for one of the little rooms. Now I hate the little rooms. The locals love them because you get to sing more songs and don't have to have stage fright as you are only singing among friends. Me....? ...well I prefer to share my version of New York New York with everyone.

So being giving reassurance that this means we will all got to sing all the songs we like, we poured into the 5 by 5 room with the computer in the corner where you type in your song numbers and the video in the corner. Now I do have to complement this establishment of its selection of tunes. Theres a Japanese song book, a Chinese song book and an English/Malay songbook. And 5 versions of "My Way" which meant choosing was a problem.

I find that Karaokes come in several forms in Asia. There is the ubiquitous dingy ones with cheap drinks, old tapes, threadbare lounges with depressed springs and old GRO's. Then there is the glittery ones with new tapes, great sound systems, new furniture, waiters in tuxedos, young GRO's, expensive drinks and 50 dollar cover charges and 20 dollar "titbits". There are very few in between and Club Rose was one of them.

Club Toppan was one of the latter more common ones, and I cant tell you the drink, cover charge or GRO hourly charges because George paid for all of it (of course). Splitting bills is very bad form.

In response to George's enquiry of whether I would "like a girl", I shook my head vigorously, which prompted him to bring in two to introduce to me. Fluttering their eyelashes, they sat down uncomfortably close, on each side. One couldn't speak English but they were both good cuddlers. One was called "Ruby" and one was called "Tanya" (at least in this place).

Don't believe anything you hear at a Karoake Club. But keep your eyes and ears open. This is perhaps the first rule of doing business in Asia. The whole environment is created to obscure the truth and impair your judgement. Take tonight (or rather last night as I am writing this at 5am) for instance. The lights were low meaning you cant see anything clearly. The music is loud so you don't hear anything clearly. They force feed you brandy so you cant think clearly, then they bring you over a girl who pretends your her only love and is much better looking than your wife (sorry Hortense). Mind you the lights were low and she was wearing a lot of makeup and a dress that did accentuate her good points. (yep, it was cold too..in direct contrast to the humid oven out on the street). After a while you believe shes yours...

Then you sing a song through a mixer which makes your voice sound like Frank Sinatras'. The barman act is if they are your closest friends. They even laughed at my jokes. That last time that happened was in 1966.

Your host is very obliging and is making heaps of promises about what business you are going to do together.

...Things are not as they seem.....

So just enjoy it and realise you're in a fantasy land. We all need a release sometimes. But wait..your being sized up as well. If you don't know how to play the Karoake game, practice...because with their defences down you can find out interesting things about other people's character and whether you want to do business with them. First of all, can they handle their liquor with grace and dignity? Do they know where to stop? Do they sing their songs with good humor and accept constructive criticism and compliments gracefully? Do they have the stamina to stay until the end?

These are all important characteristics to doing business with others. Personal characteristics are as important as business contacts and acumen. So play the game, but play it well.

I got home at 4 am this morning, and I'm writing this before my 10 am meeting in the morning. For an old guy, once a month is enough.....