A
Brief Yet Illuminating Return to the Orient
With
Mighty Joe Cummins 1997!!!!!!
Chapter 1.
There’s doing and there’s
dreaming.
After many
a false start, I finally got to have a beer with the Big Man of NEC Cellphones
UK.
Mighty Joe Cummins.
18 stone of fighting machine.
He’s big, wide and with a leery grin, could have doubled up as Ali’s
opponent in that eventful fight “The rumble in the jungle!”
As it
happened he was in shorts, bottle – green, a Tommy Hilfilger shirt and Calvin Klein
sunshades. This guy was a cool dude.
Joe is the
kind of guy you instantly warm to, eminently likeable, like most cockneys. As a sprightly 30 something he greeted me
with a handshake that would startle a Grizzly bear. As I was grimacing, all I could hear him say was “wotcha
Nick”. “Watcha what?” I replied. “Watcha- drinkin’” he laughed. A drinkin’ man is “Mighty Joe Cummins”
I was back. Back to
that twighlight existence. When in
Singapore you have to realise that it’s not real. It doesn’t exist, it’s just fantasy. Joe was having difficulty realising
this. He was going thro’ the wow
phase. I did that on my first trip. I’m not strictly saying he was on a “trip”,
well not a chemical induced trip….. I don’t think !!!
Out from
the office we had to decide on food. Not
an issue you’d think but Mighty Joe don’t like fish, nor veg. In the Daimler, Joe as is usual for travelling NEC staff, sat
in first class. That means up front to
the rest of us. I had to sit in the back
in steerage…. as is usual.
Chattering in fluent Malay or possibly Mandarin, Joe
directed the driver to town. Which was
odd because he had as much idea where town was as Watford knew how to score
goal. In what amounted to more of a
threat than an indication of his culinary requirement, Mighty Joe once again
mentioned about the fish and veg. The
valet parked the car and inside we went.
Resplendent in marble and thick carpets the restaurant was
top notch.
Our host rattled off the requirements for the meal in
Mandarin and we waited for the food to arrive.
I could see Mighty Joe steaming in the air-conditioned coolness.
“Bleedin’ fish” he mumbled quietly to himself.
It was Cold snail with pig’s sinew and Jelly-fish. Followed by steamed sea perch and minced
garlic. “I don’t like Perch and I don’t mince, with garlic or without!”
“Don’t be ungrateful” I
said as I watched Mighty Joe fumble with his chopsticks. Quite how he expected to use them for the
first time with fingers the size of giant octopus- tentacles I will never
know. I could of course say that,…. because
they were next………..!!.
However, after the food was
dispensed with, it was what to do next.
“You like to do kareoke?” was the cry. Like heaven to my ears I muttered “you
bet”. With all the finesse of Ari Vaatanen
racing to the first corner, we sped into the night. Daimlers are famous for their comfort and
speed although not generally at the same time and the leather seats creaked and
groaned as we tried to keep still. We
finally came to a stop and I extricated myself from the picnic tray, and Joe
from the airbag. Steerage doesn’t have
airbags, only sick bags.
We alighted and made our
way into the opening ahead. Greeted by
the most beautiful woman I have ever, ever seen in my life, we were escorted
into the dimly lit corridor that stretched out, nay beckoned before us.
Wall to wall beautiful oriental girls dripped from every corner
and my mouth dribbled from both. I was
beginning to get the picture and Mighty Joe was beginning to melt, even though
the air conditioning was set to deep freeze.
We arrived at our room and in we went into Number 9. Inside was the most awesome TV I have ever
seen, At least I thought she was a
TV!!!!
Not 20 seconds after, we
were joined by our “ladies”, a bottle of
Cognac and a huge bowl of fruit. Now
this was about to get interesting. Fruit
games I thought!!!!. I spied Joe out of
the corner of my eye and his lady was as close as a close lady can get to you
without being as one and her hand was stroking his not inconsiderable-thigh. I kicked the video into life and hurredly
murdered a quick Boyzone and was about to start a crucifixion of my favourite
Candle in the Wind when Mighty Joe stood up.
“I’ll have to go to the lav”
Now I know that he
expected to go on his own but life in the East is not so straight-forward. His escort rose just after him and hurriedly
followed calling after him “Baby Joe Baby Joe”
Then, I murdered Candle in the Wind, My escort crooning along, her hand on the mic all
the time. It was a few minutes later
that I realised he had not returned and so I thought I had better go and find
him.
Losing a customer in a
whorehouse may just be a little difficult to explain even for me, so I rose,
along with my lady friend and we both went to the bathroom…….together. Thankfully or not ….. as the case may be,
she stayed outside the door. I went in.
Mighty Joe was there
waiting. “This is a whore house we’re in
, you know that don’t you”? he said with beads of perspiration glistening in
the dim light of the smoke laden night air.
“Calm down” I said
“I can’t go through with
it can you”?
Well it was a little close to the bone I suppose, The girls were absolutely stunning and it was
for free up to now but he was right, how long could we last as free loaders
before we were out of our depth or worse our trousers.
“We need a plan” I
said. “I’m trained at doing plans, I’ve
done a course”
“I’ll pretend to be ill and we’ll make our exit, how does
that sound”?
Joe by now would have
said yes to a bite from a crocodile with halitosis, if it got us out without taking our pants off,
so I began to look distinctly ill and he helped me out of the bathroom and into
the dimly lit corridor. Like a scene
from Apocalypse Now the purple haze of stale cigarette-smoke engulfed us
wafting around our shoulders and he helped me past the girls who were to their
credit, somewhat concerned to see a
nights accommodation being wrestled from their long-finger-nailed grasp, not to
mention $200 a piece, and we made our
way down the warren of corridors to room 9.
We entered our soundproof room and I produced an Oscar
winning performance exit for the evening.
You just cant do enough for a good customer.
Of course our host was most worried by the proceedings and
because he wanted to ensure we all had a good time gestured that Joe stay
behind and have a good time whilst he got me a cab to my hotel.
Barely able to contain my shrieks of laughter at the
spectacle of Joe being forced to stay behind, whilst I escaped, hampered my
otherwise faultless performance, Joe
proffered his enormous bulk by way of a crutch.
Like a man about to have his stay of execution removed Joe pleaded for
his release so he could help me to bed. Our host was most helpful in calming
the girls who were having difficulty understanding why Joe had to leave as well
as me and were getting a little hysterical, but we made it out into the night.
What an escape!!!.
Chapter 2
Shopping
Shopping comes easy to
Joe. Like a kid in a toy store he has to
be chaperoned to ensure he doesn’t spend all on the first day.
We were after a camera.
A particular type of camera as it happened. We knew a price and we went for it. We spent the best part of an hour bartering
each assistant down until we finally reached the bottom. 300 dollars for a camera complete with
case. The trouble was that Joe was not
content with his price. He wanted to get
ever lower. So low in fact that we were
in danger of never actually making a purchase.
Joe changed his approach and began to get aggressive. The
heat had drained him so much that he was delirious.
However the final
onslaught would be his swansong. In
hopelessly broken Mandarin he launched a tirade of abuse at the unsuspecting
salesman…. who because no doubt of a lifetimes experience in dealing with
idiots like us, completely ignored him.
Undaunted by this indifference, from a guy no bigger that Tom Thumb, Joe perspired profusely and grimaced. He was possessed by the Devil, there was no
doubt.
“You come back at 9pm tonight” the diminutive man
threatened. As he turned away I’m sure
he whispered to his equally diminutive assistant “Yes and we will cut you throat” but maybe I
was just imagining things.
Did we go? The hell
I did!! I was leaving. It was up to the Big man.
The plane rose high into the night sky and with every
breath I took we gained another 20 storeys above the neon skyline. We banked over the bay and as we began to
straighten up, Orchard Road could clearly be seen, shining like a beacon,
drawing the unsuspecting into its intoxicating grasp, to never let you leave.
Suddenly there was a red flash from the end of the main
area of Orchard Road. I instinctively looked at my watch..dead on 9pm. Atta boy I thought, Joe had done the deal of
the decade…… only offered to pay by credit card!!!!! Top man that Cummins.
Chapter 3
Taxi’s,
Transvestites and a Massage
I landed again at Singapore
airport and it had grown some more.
Reclaimed from the sea, soon there would be another runway the size of
Essex
I got a London cab to the hotel and retired until the next
day.
The Hotel Cab caller, an
Indian complete with a turban used a very loud whistle. I nicknamed him “The Whistler”. My cab duly arrived. At that moment I should have refused to get
in and walk to work instead. However I
got in and that was where it all went wrong.
The cab was customarily spotless and had the standard shrine on the
dashboard to keep us amused. The driver
however was another matter. I passed him
a card for my destination only to realise he was blind. He
held the card in his weathered hand and shook his head, forced the car into a
gear and we lurched off. I was trapped.
I believe the car had 5 forward gears and it certainly had
reverse. The upper reaches of the
gearbox we were never to visit, in a journey that would ultimately last at
least 2 days !!! We edged eerily thro
the suburbs lurching with every twitch of the driver’s foot. As we were always in second gear this made
the ride somewhat choppy. Finally onto
the expressway we hit 3rd gear, what a bloody relief.
It was only really when
we went past the last known exit to my destination that I knew things had
reached a terribly predictable point.
“Have you the slightest idea where we are going to?” I
quietly enquired, rage beginning to rise in my lower chest.
He shrugged his rounded shoulders and gesticulated in such
a manner that I could only take to mean no.
“Have you a map then?”
He did but he had left it at home. I was rapidly being sucked into a purple haze
of rage and murderous violence.
“Can you use a telephone then?” I casually enquired
expecting a similar retort.
He did thank goodness understand the workings of the
electronic telephone equipment I was handing him. He began a series of calls, probably all over
the Eastern Seaboard of the USA.
No luck there then.
I
rang a colleague and pleaded for help.
The driver had a conversation with my colleague and the phone was passed
back to me.
“Get the hell out of the cab!!! he’s a Psychopath”!!!
I got out, was threatened that if I didn’t pay the meter I’d
be visited by theTriad’s in my sleep, and find my own head on the pillow next
to me. I paid, and legged it to the
train station.
That day, Joe arrived in Singapore. After the days work we met in the Hard Rock
Café over the road from the Hotel. The
band had just started their act.
“That bloke looks a bit dodgy” said Joe as his beer disappeared. 6 feet tall in black and looking a little
like Morticia in the Adamms family he sure had a good voice. In fact on reasonably closer inspection that
guy had a chest more in keeping with Britney Spears than Arnold Schwarzenegger.
On even closer inspection (for which Joe got a reprimand)
there was a definite lack of “tackle”.
Still she could sing in tune and was a good few octaves higher than
George Michael. A pleasing combination
then, she pouted to the crowd. Although
called Jeffrey in her previous life she WAS Anjelique from France. I closed my eyes, drunk my beer and tried
desperately to believe. What the hell it
was close enough for me.
I opened my eyes and Arsenal were on the telly. How civilised. Joe was looking up Jeffrey’s skirt…stars in
his eyes!
The next
day was a day to remember. Massage by
beautiful foreign women has a certain cache about it wouldn’t you say? Joe was terminally worried these days.
First a shower, assisted if you wished! Then a relax in a
sauna as hot as I’ve ever been in, a hot tub as boiling as a pan of simmering noodles
and a cold pool so cold there was a health warning next to it and a heart
fibrulator plugged into the wall.
SHOWTIME. We went
in and…..came out smiling. Touched
gently and whispered to quietly, covered in oil. What bliss.
Singapore has something about it that borders on the
unexplainable. Motorcyclists riding in
flip- flops with their jackets on back to front. Near naked girls clinging to their boyfriends
on high powered sports bikes. Near naked
girls!!
Automatic foot massage machines so painful they make you
cry. Then into the nearest cab
The driver
was a wizened old Tibetan-monk afflicted with a stammer and had a mysterious
shaking manner. We lurched from one lane
to another in a random motion narrowly missing disaster by no more than a
whisker. The dash mounted temple ringing
its bells in protest as we headed for our next victim. A rider with a tea urn strapped to the
passenger seat, a chair strapped to the tank and carrying no less than 3
chickens in his left hand and at least 10 balloons tied to the bars. Lucky
we were in the cab then!
Chapter 4
The Saloon (Bar not Car)
High above Orchard Road is a Saloon
bar par excellence. The Country Jamboree
is a Mecca for the Watchers and the Players.
Ivor, a workmate from England had joined me for this trip.
High on adrenalin from another day in Shopping Paradise,
we struggled passed the whores who were prowling around in packs of three, and
walked into Orchard Towers. Inside the entrance
to as much debauchery as a man or woman or mix of both could ever wish for, we
headed for the escalator, the Upstairs-Girls peered over the balcony, breasts
at the ready.
We pushed thro the saloon bar door and were greeted by The
Deputy. Resplendent in tight fitting
denim jeans and an extremely low cut top, she showed us to a table, her star
pinned to her chest, like a beacon to a floundering ship.
We put our tongues back in and sat down. She didnt need a message on her T shirt I can
tell you.
“Did you see where she keeps her pen?” Ivor asked quietly,
which was hard as the County music blared deafeningly out of the speakers.
“Sure did I said”.
Like 2 startled puppies trying to break free, her more
than ample bosom clenched the pen in what must have been a wonderfully soft
heavenly grip.
About to sip our first beer, we were interrupted by Kitty. Kitty came regularly it transpired!!. About 28 (yeh right) and from Thailand on a 1
week visa she had eyes as large as saucers and teeth as white as my soul (right
again). She parked her ample backside on
to Joe’s naked knee, he was wearing his customary beach attire). She helped herself to one of Ivor’s cigarettes
and began to gyrate to the music. This
was ok for me and Ivor but Joe was a little concerned and was wishing he’d worn
jeans.
Swivelling around on his knee she introduced herself.
“Hello boys I’m Kitty from Thailand.”
As if possessed by some insane desire to get to the
innermost depths of her soul, Joe, presumably running on adrenalin or pure
fright, began to interrogate her.
“Well then dear, what do you do then?”
“How did you learn such good English, on the job was it?”
“I suppose business is a bit up and down at the moment?”
“Do you get much job satisfaction ?”
With all the sincerity of
Jerry Springer, Joe delved deep into her black saucer sized eyes, and without a
flinch declared,
“You are a prostitute aren’t you?”
Shocked by the cataclysmic ineptitude of the big man in
shorts, Kitty looked longingly at Ivor and whispered in his ear
“ you explain to him,”
With that she said “l have to go now, so I’ll see you later, oh and by the way,
having sex with friends is much better than having sex with wives and
girlfriends, and you are my friends. I
fell of my stool, Joe choked on his beer and Ivor smiled.
Chapter 5
Ian Webb’s Watch
Joe needed to start his shopping off. This always brought groans, whenever he said
this and we prepared for the worst. What
followed has been captured on video and is currently being reviewed and
considered by Price Waterhouse as a training video for Management Training.
Joe peered into the glass case and sat
on his not inconsiderable haunches to get a better look at the watch in
question. Previously assessed, this was
the watch required. The only question
was how cheap he could get it for.
The assistant came over. A petite oriental lady of about
40 years, she confidently extracted the keys to the treasure chest.
“That’s the one there”, he said and was immediately on the
phone to Ian. “I need to send a
photocopy of the watch back to England for my mate” Joe said. The assistant took the watch and copied it
and enlarged it to get better detail.
Anxious minutes followed as the data was transferred over
the miles to England.
“He says it looks a bit big” Joe told me. “But its been enlarged for goodness sake!? I
retorted, “come on Joe the shops are closing” Then Joe’s phone went again and a
totally unrelated conversation started which lasted 20 minutes. The watch sat on the counter and the
assistant had a sleep. Ivor had 4
cigarettes and I had a drink and a biscuit.
The call ended and the bargaining began.
We haggled over £2.50 for 15 minutes.
By this time the assistant had lost the will to live. It had cost her more than she was prepared to
give. She gave in, we paid for the
watch, Joe smiled, and we left, 2 hours
after we entered the shop. A menace,
that Cummins.
Chapter 6
8am Solicitation
Sitting in the early morning heat,
minding his own business, Ivor was having a smoke. Teetering on stiletto heels and heading his
way, she approached with caution. The
sort of caution reserved for approaching a sleeping dog.
She
struggled to a stop right next to Ivor, who in characteristically British
manner, enquired as to her health this fine tropical morning.
Drunk as she certainly was, she was still able to string
together the odd word. Trying to find a
cab, drunk as a skunk, had not impaired her vision sufficiently that she could
not spot a punter.
“I’m Anna” she slurred.
“You are English no? she said.
“Sure am darling” Ivor replied.
“I knew an Englishman once” she said.
“You must find him when you go home.
His name is Brian Wardle. He owes
me money”.
It transpired that the cad had unceremoniously shagged her
and run off with the cash. Of course
Ivor would help her.
Upon getting that part out of the way, she continued… “I
charge $50 so you can have me now…..I make you happy”
Ivor not too taken aback by this replied. “Unfortunately my dear girl I have not taken
my breakfast, and I always make a rule of avoiding heightened sexual pleasure
on an empty stomach.”
“Who said anything about pleasure she slurred, this is
business. Ok then $30, just for you, all
in, all off, anything you want, anyhow you please”
Gravity had taken its toll on both her chest and her legs,
which had given up the task of supporting her body, and she slumped down next
to Ivor.
A microsecond of indecision as to what do next, passed,
and Ivor stood up, Anna fell sideways onto the bench and began to snore.
Ivor strolled into the breakfast room at 8.15 and
smiled. “Have I got a story for you !!”
Chapter 7
Depression
The exploits of Joe Cummins are
now legendary. However there was about
to be a disturbing twist to tale.
In an unconscious effort to surpass his previous record of
shopping till you drop, he had embarked upon a mindless voyage of spending into
town. He had already admitted to me that
he only spent when he was depressed or stressed, so the ensuing events, led me
to believe that a call to the Samaritans was next on his agenda, although he
maybe did not know it yet.
He had a modest shopping
list from colleagues, so he had what we call in the business a “soft
start”. He had had a few stressful days
at the office and the pressure was beginning to build in the lower left area of
the brain. When the pressure and stress
level was reached at 11.30 am on the Friday morning at the end of the first
week, the resultant electrical impulse connection was made without a hitch.
Uncharacteristically he booked a tour trip to Malaysia,
just over the causeway. What follows you
may find disturbing, but has to be put into print, as a record, just in case
the men in white coats get to him before I do.
Armed with Nike shorts,
LA raiders baseball cap the wrong way around on his bulging head, he
burst out of the Hotel. It was a
blistering Saturday morning.
He met The Whistler at
the front veranda. The piercing shriek
of the whistle reverberated around the marble pillars and the banana trees like
a colt 45 bullet did in those old cowboy movies. The effect of this was the immediate arrival
of 6 cabs……exactly the opposite of what happens on a weekday. He chose the largest and sped off in the
direction of the Largest Continent on earth.
Continental Asia. Would he ever
return or would he be swallowed into the countryside only to emerge in 10 years
time professing to be still fighting in the Vietnam war for the Americans. Only he knew.
What a guy!!!!!
He stepped out of the cab
on the other side and surveyed to battleground before him. He knew that things in the rear view mirror
are closer than you think and things are very seldom what they seem. He would need all his skills of coercement
and negotiation about him. He was
ready. He wiped his perspiration-beaded
brow, and stormed off.
It took him 2 days to get
the items below and a week to get over the shock to his visa card.
Read it and weep suckers!!!!!
1.
41 CD’s various titles
2.
1 CD pouch doubling as a posing pouch
3.
3 Ralph Lauren T Shirts (XL…..possibly real)
4.
19 VCD films (definitely copy)
5.
3 Videos
6.
7 Copy watches (various types)
7.
5 CD’s (illegal
pirated software)
8.
10 playstation games (copy)
9.
1 Starbuck coffee mug (because it held a pint and it used
up loose change)
10.
2 lazer quest gun kits with backpack battery harness and
manual (for the kids)
11.
1 bumblebee proyo (for the wife)
12.
1 Set of clinique body care items (for himself)
13.
1 ladies brief…..
case!
14.
1 silk tie (Mickey mouse…..for Dave Hoverd (his boss))
15.
2 battery chargers
16.
2 pens (ballpoint, for some reason)
17.
5 flashing handphone antena’s (awesomely good)
18.
1 portable Panasonic VCD Player
19.
1 car CD Tuner (ridiculously cheap)
20.
1 digital camera (halleluya!!! And praise the Lord)
21.
2 Bottles of chilli sauce (by accident… he actually wanted
a beefburger but got confused)
22.
A pair of Gucci specs (copy)
23.
A tub of Breast enhancement cream
24.
1 Ladyshave (presumably for his wife)
25.
A bass guitar (he likes deep vibrations apparently)
26.
A Crash helmet and pair of leather chaps (why, I cant for
the life of me fathom?)
27.
1 deep fat fryer
28.
4kgs of peanuts
29.
2 boxes of orchids (Mother’s day was imminent)
30.
A turbo hairdryer (for his golden locks)
AND
31.
A Scuba diving
holiday in East Timor. This was changed, because of the recent troubles to a
week in Afghanistan !!!! (soon to be changed again but he’s running out of safe
destinations. However it is rumoured
that Sweden is safe!!! Unless you are a wild pig of course)
At a total cost of $3000
this was without doubt the pinnacle of his career. He had finally gone over the top. The depths of depression had been reached,
stared at and conquered. He laughed in
the face of danger and scorned the weak.
He had finished.
The following few days
weighed heavily on his mind, which was causing even more profuse perspiration
and a visit to the local Church for absolution, was a definite must.
Unable to shed the remotest amount of light on his new
victim, the priest at first proposed a herbal smoke and a mixture of oil and
fragrant creams. But such was the crisis
before him there was only one way out.
He invited Joe for a massage.
For those that have seen Apocalypse Now, you will be able
to picture the scene. The priest got Joe
to strip down so he was only wearing a toga type cloth (large of course) and
the walked thro the smoky dark corridors to the back of the church and down
steep dark, damp steps crossed only by the odd sacred cow or two, which he later
found out were used for sacrificial purposes only.
There was total silence as Joe and the Priest (who’s name
was Chi Min but was known as Robert to his flock) entered the small dimly lit
room, filled with a pungent odour and a couple of freshly made up mattresses. They went to lay on the crisp white linen in
silence. The girls came in and silently
began the job in hand.
The pain was a crucial part of the healing process and so
pain was duly administered. Toward the
end the girl leaned over and offered Joe the customary extras.
Fortunately Joe was asleep and the Priest just
smiled. Another convert.
Joe’s room resembled a
lock up garage. Boxes were everywhere,
some opened and discarded, some just stacked
“Come in Nick, we’ll have some fun. Put this on.”
He was wearing one half of the Lazerquest gun kit and looked like he had
escaped from the set of Ghostbusters.
10 minutes later we were both dead several times. More worryingly Joe was becoming quiet.
“You’ve done it now “ I said “how are you going to get
this lot back? You’ll go to jail. This is smuggling.
“Sod, I’m going for it”
he replied with a grin. He hung the
“Maid” tag on the door. “She’ll tidy for
us, c’mon lets get Ivor and go for a
beer.
Chapter 8
The End
Once
back inside the Saloon, Joe settled down to watch the whores, and seemed to get
himself together. As business and
competition was fierce, the girls had to work hard for there business. Some did, but some just took no effort in
looking good. We called these the
Outlaws.
The Sheriff had a tattoo on her right breast. It kept calling to us. She also kept her pen in her cleavage. We wanted to kidnap her and run away. She and her girls worked the customers into a
lather, or we wished they would. It was just 8pm and all the whores were in
the bar. The game had begun.
As the night wore on and the efforts bore little results,
the girls had to try much harder.
With a vice like grip they would try to coerce you into
going with them. We just said we were
from England and we did not do that sort of thing. They all to a one replied that we must be
doing it to ourselves. They may have
been right!!
The Gunslinger came over for a chat. He looked after the girls and kept the
piece. We took pictures of the saloon
and the Sheriff and her team of the Deputy and the Posse. It was our last few minutes in
Singapore. We left solemnly. Life will never be the same. Our wives and children will be happy again.
