Stood by the cashier desk once again. By now, I’d handled almost 50,000 USD I think. In cash. The dollars smell awesome, and if only I could run away with the money, I’d certainly use the money to visit Jillian in the US for her wedding. To be honest, these ASEAN and US trips are my only motivation to earn money at the moment. Bali was still boring and I was looking to get some mushroom in Kuta, but I couldn’t go anywhere. Read Discover Magazine again to kill time, while my two workmates talked with this fly guy who danced to SNSD when work was low. K-Pop is freaking everywhere.
I thought of missing the Gala Dinner, because really, what would I do there besides eating? Oh yeah, exactly, eating. Decided to go cos I was hungry. Let’s see how doctors have fun.
The gala dinner was very fancy, but honestly? I don’t think the food was that great. We watched a couple of traditional dances. Always fascinated with those colors in their costumes. Ate some more, and it still didn’t taste like a gala dinner. Then the band played and I was suddenly aware that I came alone. People danced and I hurt. Damn period. These doctors danced to Volare, Livin La Vida Loca, and the freaking Black Eyed Peas. They looked like they were having fun. Suddenly I remembered myself telling this guy that I hated people, and he told me that was why people hated me. Is that so?
The gala dinner was over, and I walked back to the next hotel. That was where I stayed. I passed the lame, empty beach in the lame, empty Nusa Dua. There was no moon. The beach was waveless. All I saw was black, and black, and black. I just couldn’t take it. I sat down on the sand and started to cry.