Lee has always been 'the man', certainly as long as E@L has known him. This past year. He's got these ;lawyers and bankers and they are eating out of his large strong hand (a rugby player's hand). He's talking tham all into this and that, drinks as they go, they're flying with this guy, but this is not a drugs town, no it's not that, it's just girls and party and drinks till sun-up and no excuses. and they consider him the mnan. Constitution like iron, he can take an hepatic beating and rise an hour or two later, off to the office to save the works from not making a profit, or whatever it is he says he does, that E@L doesn't get.
BBQs on my rooftop place - it's not what you think, no penthouse, laugh, just a mossy series of tiles roughly horizontal and a BBQ on roof level- just above the flat. And some chairs and one of the most amazing views on earth. You've got all the big building of HK - IFC2 just finished, Cheung Kong, Bank of China, HSBC - well that's not so big but its's cool and it's where Lee works. They're just there, across HK park. Lee would get a few of guys up for an impromptu BBQ on a week-night, why the fuck not, watch the twilight drip away and the wait for the neon show to sparkle with a few G&Ts to ease the not insubstantial pain of being fucking rich. Well not Lee and certainly not me, but these guys. And I'm not sure how rich these guys were, but people in HK like to show face, even gwailo.
So we are sitting there, the light is going down. Spears of xenon are piercing whatever planets fly above the BoC. Sharks teethes, threatening, on IFC2 - fuck that is a big building. The boring grid of simple lights on Lai Kai Shing's box, enough energy wasted to raise small african nations out of the electrical stone age, prick. I'm looking at Lee. Paiul from KPMG, Iain from [law-firm] and Scott from The Antarctic - joking there, he's a legal eagle too. We're all looking at Lee.
- Well, yeah it's not really been tried, at least not in Wanchai. Let's bring some of the life LKF down here. There's not enough kids, kids spend money. They can get here early, they've somewhere to go. You know it's not until LKF shuts down, what is it, 1am, 2 am, that anybody comes down to Lockhard Rd. It would be a new thing, give the kids a cool place to go.
- What's wrong with LKF, asks Paul. It's just a step away form all the banks.
- That's what wrong with LKF. Bankers. Suits. Shit, there's gotta be more to a Friday night than martinis after work, oops don't lose your briefcase as you loop around the Fong, that sorta stuff. I mean the teachers and, well, basically anyone who's not a banker hates the place, certainly by about 7 when we are all there. People who don't carry briefcases after work or university on Fridays.
- So I'm the problem? laughs Paul. He really does think it's funny, Lee mocking him. He knows he deserves to be mocked. Lee's always taking the piss.
- No, seriously. Think about it. Not everyone wants to hang with suits. I don't mean no-one, but there must be a at least enough people to fill another the of bar.
- So you've done some serious work on this or not, asks Iain, a lawyer's mind.
- Demographics, yep, all done. Most of the people who don't go to LKF, it's too crowded, maybe too noisy, they go up the escalator. They go the Murhpy's or to Stauntons, somewhere in to SOHO. But that's not enough. There aren't any real bars there. It's all F&B, emphasis on the F. Not enough on the B. It dies down real quick, the people are there a few beers then dinner, but then they get lost.
- So how will your place sort this?
- Simple. It's an obvious gwailo bar, open. You got the Coyote girls, you've got the laybacks.
- So you're you going to throw away good tequila for nothing down everyone's throats. Paul is still laughing.
- Don't you get it? Of course you get it. It's shit tequila, not good tequila and it cost fuck all. But it suckers people in. They buy one for themselves, they shout their group. We are competing against Big Al's jello-shots here. so we have to break the cycle. We have the lure, the coyote girls and the hook, the free layback. We'll get people coming here instead of Staunton St. Then they'll hang around. The free party goes for 10 mins every hour. OK, say, I'm thinking, but I'm open to suggestions, you guys being the shareholders, ten minutes dancing, five minutes of free playbacks, go through a bottle, big deal, you see? You have to pay to get another layback, right? So, would you? You have peer pressure, it's psychology. You have gorgeous girls with tits half out, it's hormones.
Silence.
He's done this pitch before. He milks the silence, squeezes it nipples, takes a suck.
- You'll be getting your money back in ten months, Joe and I have done the prospectus. (Joe is the finance guy, he's sorting out our investments, he lives in NYC). I'll come to each of you. We will look at it privately. But think about it. Tits. Free drinks. Speaking of which. E@L, give The Mouse a buzz, tell her to bring up some more tonic. Another bottle of red?
Jut as he says this the laser show starts. On the biggest buildings. You scans ee the one from Kowloon too, coming over the top. It always amazes, they did it for dome CHOGM or something. Lee would know, I have no idea.
Then when he uncorks the next red, fireworks start, it's 8 already. Blooming crackling (a few seconds delay) soft hued transparent cloud of cordite (?) and fumes drift across the lights of Central. It just keeps kabooming. This is HK, we have too much fuckig money. We are happy to spend, but we don;t like losing it.
- Cheers, says Lee.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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