McGettigans and Barasti

We get back to Michaela’s place, cool off, and start getting our evening selves together. Kelvin wants us to get dressed up to go out tonight. Pants and a shirt. Hmmmm, that sounds way too hot. “There’s no dress code at the place we’re going, he just wants to look nice for family pics”, “You could find a wife!” Haha I’d rather be comfortable than find a wife. I pull a wrinkled shirt out of my bag. Kelvin isn’t having it. “Let me see”, he meticulously irons my shirt super fast while a taxi driver is en route.

On the drive to the bar Kelvin tells us that he is a chief of a clan back in Nigeria. He wants Peter and I at the celebration when he takes over the clan. And for Michaela’s coronation, of course. We’ll be there!

We get to a high end shopping center. It looks like a resort with a river running through it. The sail shaped Burj Al Arab looming in the distance

Michaela takes us to an Irish bar called McGettigans. That’s why I go to Dubai. The Irish bars. We get situated and order a round of Carlsberg.

LMFAO’s ‘Party Rock Anthem’ comes on and Peter and I start LOMFAO. We tell Kelvin and Michaela about how we rolled into Sofia, Bulgaria in the Admiral Nelson with this song blaring and the windows down. We took a wrong turn and found ourselves in a dead end cul de sac in the middle of a market full of vendor stalls and people. Had to do a 65 point Austin Powers turn to get out and all these kids ran over to the car and started dancing. Stall vendors just stared at us perplexed as we rolled the car forwards and back amongst a throng of dancing kids trying to get out. A giant flaming moustache covering the entire hood. Just a ridiculous scene. Classic Mongol Rally.

The Carlsberg comes and the server brings scratchers that we can win merch with. Kelvin is convinced that they rig it and give us the shitty ones. He wants to pick his own ticket. The girl comes back with a stack and Kelvin waves his hands over them like a magician. He picks one and scratches while we eagerly look over his shoulder  He wins a scarf!

Michaela wants to know what we did in England. We catch her up and tell her about “Trinity, you’re the team for me!” Did you go to dog racing? That’s pure Yorkshire. Damn, I wish we had.

Kelvin tells us he had a bike accident in China. “My afro saved my life”. He’s showing us scars on his arms from the road rash. Another round of Carlsberg. No take those back and let me pick. Another carlsberg scarf! And we win another scarf in the next round too. We’re batting about 33%. But then the servers, seeing how excited we are about winning this shit, just bring over an amazing amount of Carlsberg paraphernalia and dump it on the table. Keychains, bottle openers, wigs, massive soccer ball sunglasses, more scarves. The wigs and glasses instantly change us into super fans and the pics in this green lighting are hilarious

We finish up at McGettigans and catch a cab to some place called Barasti. It’s a sprawling, multi-bar complex with a pool and several outdoor areas. Sheeeeesh, what a spot this is! They’ve set up something called The Super Dome for watching the World Cup Finals. It’s huge. Wow they’re not fucking around. There’s a line to get in though and we can’t be bothered this close to kick off.

We go through the main building and come out into another large tented area with a gigantic screen at the end and a local band on a stage in front of it. Yep this’ll do. The local band is doing a decent rendition of Dani California.

We get up to the packed bar and decide we’ll stock up so we never have to wait in that line again. They only serve Budweiser? That is a shiiiiiitty World Cup sponsor. But they do come in buckets of 18 and there’s four of us so why not. Oh Kelvin already got 4. Ah well, they won’t go to waste.

It’s jammed in here, not sure where we’re gonna find a good vantage spot for the game. People have probably been here for hours. I don’t really wanna enter the crowd and rave to a good spot just to jostle for position the whole time either. Michaela agrees.

While Peter and I are scouting a location, Kelvin is giving handshakes and back pats to one of the giant black security guards. Looks like some kinda racial respect may be landing us a prime spot. We go ahead passed the VIP seated section and the large crowd gathered in front of the stage to a palm tree off to the side of the screen with a large wooded planters box to prop our bucket of beers up on. Holy shit Kelvin, this is dope! People are looking at us with that “What makes them so fucking special?!” face.

We get sorted and the game starts on the massive screen. There’s a ripple roar through the crowd. Large collection of expats here and the excitement is charging the atmosphere. As the players take the field it’s clear England is the favored team in the crowd.

Kelvin gives Peter and I some cologne samples that he got from the attractive Hugo Boss reps next to us. Two minutes later he grabs a couple of our beers and trades then for about 2 dozen more samples lol. Michaela slaps him on the shoulder, “Kelvin! What are you doing? That’s their beer!” Peter and I are just cracking up, did he really just trade our beer for perfume samples?

We joke about dumping them in Cooney and Drisdelle’s luggage when they get to Cape Town so their clothes all reek of Hugo Boss. And every time they do laundry we’ll do it again. Sabotage. The Hugo Boss Bomb! Actually that would probably suck for everyone involved.

The Croatian national anthem comes on and it seems they have a larger support group here than I thought. It’s gonna be a game!

Kelvin gets us a sheesha. It’s fabulous. Probably the smoothest sheesha I’ve ever had. This is great, what a set up we’ve scored here. Other people try to edge in on our territory and the security guard Kelvin buttered up moves them along. They’re confused. It doesn’t make sense to anyone why we’re allowed here and no one else. Eventually the pressure for space gets too annoying for the security guy to constantly manage but still we don’t get too crowded. There are some fun people around. We get 12 more beer.

We meet some Russian girls from Siberia. Haha we love it there, especially Barnaul. We tell them it’s fine to stand with us, getting a good spot in here is impossible. Actually you can have these Carlsberg glasses and scarves too. Selfie time!

All the glassssessss!!

The game is decent but alas, England has lost. Peter and Michaela are upset. Actually, Kelvin seems to be the most upset. Maybe fueled by all the beers and Hugo Boss cologne.

That’s that then. The place starts clearing out. We pass by a couple on the way to the cab. The dude wants to stop for a pic but the girl is on a mission, “Babe, I need AC. AC babe.” Haha AC babe. Yep we need AC babe too, food and more drinks. Fuck this heat, c’mon it’s night time.

We hop a cab to an area Michaela hopes will still have food open. The cabbie asks if we were watching the game, “Fucking Croatian!” Kelvin rasps, he’s lost his voice from cheering during the game. We’ve also lost all our scarves and Carlsberg shit.

We get to a nice section of town by the pier. Lit up high-rises and fancy boats.

There’s a place called Cargo that looks open. Damn it’s still hot. AC babe. Babe AC. We go in and grab a table. Pretty gooned at this point after 3 cases of bud. Order up some beers and ribs and fries. Nomz good.

The place is closing up so we head back out to our yachts. This area’s got some swank.

We get back to Michaela’s apartment. Babe AC. There’s a broom in the elevator so I ride it in a circle like a bucking horse to the surprise and bemusement of Kelvin and Michaela. Probably looks good on the security cam.

Ahhhhhh AC babe. Gin? Sheesha? We ride a lavender camel over the red dunes to a sacred sanctuary deep in the sands and get back just in time for bed.

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