Singapore-Finally!

Upon arriving in Singapore, the first person I contact is my old friend, Brigitte.Twenty-one years after I first came to Singapore, we still click. Brigitte is Swedish and hysterically funny and adventurous. Our brains work very similar when it comes to witticisms and silliness. We always had fun together when we were younger and I see unadulterated madness in our near future once again.
She’s already informed me, that’s right, NOT ASKED me, INFORMED me that we are going to Bangkok in November with a gay couple. I’m completely deferring to her on this one because, number one, I LOVE Thailand and two, I’m the biggest fag hag there is and I need to find some gays in this town to hang out with. The conversation goes something like this:

Brigitte: “So, who have you contacted so far?"

Me: “You”

Brigitte: “uh-huh. So, here’s the plan sweetie, we find you a job, I’m trying to get you in at my company (She works for a media group that publishes three magazines and an online site), then we go to Bangkok in November with the gays because…hold on…Sheila, you can’t go in the water bowl!” (She’s talking to one of the three kittens she’s adopted)…sorry…fucking cats! My house is a goddamn zoo! Anyway, we go to Bangkok because I want to get a tattoo from the same guy that did Angelina Jolie’s ink.”

Me: “Good, because I want to get my nose pierced.”

Brigitte: “ Oh, that you can do here, we can go this weekend.”

Me: “Well, I want to wait until my parents are in the States for a few months.” (I start to back pedal…pathetic.) “I don’t want them to worry, you know how they are.”

Brigitte chuckles: “Yes, I remember. Send me your CV (resume).”

After a few more phone calls she once again, INFORMS me that she has a plan to find me a job, get me over my broken heart (which she assures me will happen in two weeks) and help me find the path to enlightenment through a yoga instructor she knows. I just have to promise her that I will help her get healthy. She’s already toned down on the drinking but she needs to exercise and eat healthy. I tell her she needs to quit the cigarettes and she laughs at me. “I have to have SOMETHING!” she says. Too bad, because that’s her worst health issue. But I table the argument, for now. I tell her I’m down with all of that and we make plans to meet on Arab Street on Sunday afternoon.