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Night caller. 4/26/2005

About 10 years ago, when I was between jobs, I was given a job to transfer a cabin cruiser from Port Klang to Langkawi. The boat was a 44 foot Searay cabin cruiser, fitted with twin Mercurys and a Caterpillar genset. The boat was roomy, with a master bed cabin and a smaller cabin under the main cabin. It had a fly bridge, and in all, was an impressive piece of machinery.

The boat was shipped in from Florida, and had been bought by a Japanese businessman, to be based in Langkawi Marina for his personal use. A friend of mine owned a yachting company, and he got the job of ensuring that the Searay was sea worthy, and to transfer it to Langkawi. He was busy at the time, and he called me up, knowing I wasn’t doing much of anything, and asked if I would like the job. I replied in the affirmative, and duly went down to Port Klang to inspect the boat.

I duly set off, with the boat, towards Penang, the first stop, for fuel and fit out. The journey took most of a day, and I sailed into Penang harbour in the late evening. After mooring the boat at the Penang Yacht Club, I debated between spending the night on the boat, or getting a hotel in town. I opted for the hotel, because I really wanted a hot shower without having to watch my water consumption. So I checked into the Grand Continental Hotel.

It was a rather old place, but clean, and presentable. I got a room for the night, and after having a nice long shower, headed out for some food and beer. I met up with some old friends, and after a night of carousing, I headed back at about 1 a.m. to get some rest for the journey the next day to Langkawi.

At about 3 a.m., when in the depths of sleep and a rather delicious dream involving Michelle Pfeiffer and copious amounts of whipped cream, there was a knock on the door. I woke up, and groaned, and cursed, thinking that one of my mates was wanting to share the room for the night because he was too blasted to drive home. I opened the door, and I sobered up fairly quickly.

There was a Chinese man standing at the door, and from the look on his face, and the way he was dressed, he was definitely a member of one of the triad gangs. I racked my memory, trying to remember if I had pissed off any triad member lately, and contemplated slamming the door and trying to call hotel security. And then he said “Your girl is here.”

I went “Huh?” and I looked behind him, and saw this Chinese girl standing there, dressed in a mini skirt, and looking fairly attractive. Well, I guess in the daylight I would have probably puked looking at her, but standing there in the dim hotel corridor light, and through my hangover, it dodn’t look half bad from where I was standing.

The guy repeated his sentence, and again I went “Huh?” He was beginning to show signs of irritation by this time, and I realised that my life might end in this seedy hotel in a pool of blood. I told him I didn’t ask for a girl. He then said I did. I said he must have the wrong room, and he then quoted me my room number. I thought to myself, “Yeah right, you’re standing right in front of my room dickwad, of course you know my room number.”

In the end, we all agreed it was a case of miscommunication, and he went on his way. I went back to sleep, cursing and swearing that I would find the fucker responsible and make his life a misery. The next morning, I checked out, and the bell boy asked me how my night was. I told him it was o.k. and he then asked if the service was good. I thought he was trying to angle for a large tip, when I realised he was refering to my late night visitor. I grabbed him by the collar and asked if he was responsible for sending the girl to my room. He started choking, and trying to get free, and the desk manager and some other staff came up to see what was wrong.

I related last night’s incident to the manager, and he asked the bell boy if this was case. By this time the bell boy was really choking, and the murderous gleam in my eyes told everyone not to come near me, unless they wanted to suffer the same fate. The manager managed to persuade me to let the bell boy down, and apologised profusely, saying that they would take disciplinary action against the bell boy for disturbing a guest.

I stormed out of the hotel, and swore blind I would never go back. Until the next fucking week, when the Searay was damaged in a freak storm in Langkawi, and I had to bring the boat back to Penang for repair work.

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