bottoms up!
the domestic minx
11 Comments
God in His goodness sent the grapes, to cheer both great and small;
little fools will drink too much, and great fools not at all.
Tidying away the last of the breakfast dishes this morning, I caught sight of a singular wine glass, overlooked last night, standing lonely and bleak on the floor by the sofa.
In the bottom of the glass lay the syrupy residue of Shiraz, around the rim a smudge of lipstick, Anna Sui sweet and scarlet.
A faint, exhausted whiff of wine escaped the glass as I picked it up, and for a moment the smudge of fingerprints and tired decadence, the whiff of past excess and indulgence, washed over me in a flood of memory.
Oh how the wine has flowed. I confess to an immoderate deluge of the fermented beverage passing my lips over the years, it's smooth, seductive ticket to The Dark Side an irresistible temptation.
Yes, I have visited The Dark Side many times.
All on the wings of the Gods and their beguiling nectar...
It doesn't take much.
Three glasses usually, a little more if I've cared to eat anything,
less if there's the intoxicating lure of a good beat and the opportunity for a little mischief.
It is as if The Dark Side rises up to greet me, meet me halfway, if there is even the slightest prospect of mischief.
Company Dinners, Board Meetings, Snooty Social Gatherings and Serious Discussions; it conspires to imbue my swillings with added naughtiness.
I become fae, a mischievous trickster, beguiling, deluding and diabolical.
I am apt to become sinful, delighting in improper conversations with men of the cloth, flirting outrageously on enemy lines, dancing on tables and removing articles of clothing when they become bothersome.
While the peccadilloes are numerous, the indiscretions varied and the scandals outrageous, I remain rather shameless, finding the memory of them incalculably comical, their accompanying chagrin and embarrassment lost in the mirth of the retelling.
There is a particularly florid incident I remember well, one that took place in Balikpapan, moments before the fall of Suharto, when I lost my bearings in the Chardonnay and found myself in the Clutches of a Scandal.
The Nineties were drawing to a close and Indonesia was under a cloud.
A pall of smoke had risen to smother the country, the result of ruthless slashing and burning of native timber.
With the El Niño effect exacerbating the haze, it lay stagnant and unmoving over the Archipelago, drifting only enough to disrupt air traffic control in Singapore.
Combined with the festering discontent and a groundswell of anarchy against the Suharto government, the expat community were desperate for solutions.
Enter the Australian Ambassador, who arrived bearing the sweet balm of Australian chardonnay, semillon, shiraz and cabernet merlot.
It was music to my ears, a social opportunity not to be missed.
An event held at the Dusit Hotel, it was impeccably tweaked with Eurasian lounge grooves, an assortment of delectable finger foods and a veritable feast from the vineyards of our homeland.
Unfortunately, I had been nurturing a sore throat gleaned from days of coughing up residual atmospheric scum and found it rather difficult to swallow the predominantly crispy hors d'oeuvres. Swallowing the wine, of course, was almost medicinal and it wasn't long before I was dosed up.
It was unfortunate that my audience with the Ambassador was two hours into the soirée and not at the beginning. It was even more unfortunate that my late 90's microfibre skirt had begun to slide down my hips, exposing the top of my underpants that I then decided to tuck the waist into for support. It was most unfortunate that this wardrobe malfunction became apparent during a slightly slurred, throaty laughed, shimmy hipped and utterly inappropriate conversation with the man of the hour as we all were lured by the thumping beats of the Borneo Bar downstairs.
It could have been the Electric Psychedelic Pussycat Swingers' Club.
This was my happening and it was freaking me out!
Filled with mischief, bravado and a good measure of Australian chardonnay I quickly forgot my offending skirt and threw my nubile body up on the stage with the quasi 60's Indonesian band, waving my arms, tossing my hair and wiggling my hips.
Filled with smoke, a crush of bodies and a groovy bossanova, it was an electrifying atmosphere.
As my friends cheered and clapped, the crowd worked themselves into a lather as I became Bossanova Minx, Minx a Go Go.
Oh baby! I was switched on, I was smashing,
I was so Shagadelic I was making myself horny!
Unfortunately my skirt was making it's way south, having dislocated itself from the curious arrangement with the underpants, luckily leaving them in position as it slithered sinuously down my gyrating form.
Despite the protestations of the crowd any further downward motions were prevented by my hasty tuck and fold, the skirt and underpants quickly becoming as one.
But their allegiance would prove deadly.
An overly zealous male member of our group who, in my husband's absence had assumed an overly protective vigour, rushed forward to pull me down from the stage, presumably with my modesty and private parts intact.
It was not to be.
He grabbed at my skirt, newly aligned with the underpants, and what happened next is Something I Shall Never Forget.
Without providing you with the raw and redundant details of my Exposure,
dear reader, I can safely tell you that the crowd got more than they bargained for that night, as did any remaining members of the Ambassador's party.
I left the stage in shame.
But, indefatigable minx that I am, the dancing continued at floor level with my friends, where I proceeded to get roaring drunk on little more than two unnecessary tequilas.
I never forgave my skirt.
In fact, as we finally left the hotel with it again slowly slithering past my visible panty line, I threw it off altogether.
I tossed it at three security guards who, not really knowing what to do with it, gently handed it back to me.
Terima kasih banyak Pak.
And promptly reported my immodest behaviour.
To that I say
Hidup begitu
and Bottoms Up!!
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Reader Comments (11)
How very minxish you saucy little scallywag.
In order to complete my mental picture of "Minx a GOGO", may I be so bold, as to ask the state of topography of the bush at the time.
Oh my dear Uncle Norman,
I was living quite the glamorous expat life I can assure you, giving me plenty of time to keep both my house, and garden, in order, so to speak...
"Manicured" is probably the best term to use for the state of my topiary. I am so glad I had not allowed it to ramble and sprout forth in glorious go-go abundance...
There may have been more than a bustle in my hedgerow if that had been the case...
x
Never rely on anything called microfibre I always say
Micro fibre is the Devils' fabric...
Obviously...
Sir Les Patterson would have said that you "showed him the map of Tasmania". There is something of the succubus in you, dear Minx. I think you may have visited me once in a dream.
Ooh, what a delicious thought...
But you would remember if I had!!
xx
I can't imagine your very helpful male friend being in such good favour after that embarrassing fiasco, Minx!!
LOL!!!
Oh he was in the doghouse after that!!!
I actually think he was more horrified than me!
If that was at all possible...
What's a little nakedness between friends...or complete strangers...or Ambassadors and their friends...in the grand scheme of things?
I'm quite sure you can place all blame flat at the feet of Bacchus. Naughty, wicked God of wine and ecstasy. How could he help but be completely smitten with the delicious Minx?! He most probably finagled said skirt panty wardrobe malfunction.
Makes perfect sense.
xoxo
Mistress M
I'm quite certain there was a Divine Conspiracy at work here Margot.
It becomes quite plain, really...
from the unexplained choice of ludicrously mobile skirt to that of unsupportive underwear.
In hindsight, even the sore throat was a finagle...
In fact the entire el nino effect was in on it...
Damn those gods and their wicked ploys...
As always your words shine a light...
perhaps because you are a goddess, and you understand these matters...
xox
MIIIIIIIINX!