Da Nang, Hoi An, and My Gay Waiter

I stopped for a night in Danang after leaving Hue. It was not a major backpacker spot, but I figured I’m unemployed so my time is worthless. It was raining bad in Danang, all night and all morning. I checked in, wandered the streets, ate dinner, hung out in my hotel room watching TV, slept, woke up, saw that it was still raining, slept til noon, and checked out. Exciting right? I had dinner in this gorgeous courtyard at this beautiful restaurant, and because it was raining I was the only one there. There really didn’t seem like there was much to Danang. It is where China Beach took place, and during the War was an R&R spot for U.S. GI’s. So it has a reputation for prostitution although I didn’t see anything of the sort. I guess whores don’t work in the rain. I was going to hit up monkey mountain but it was raining, so I went internetting instead and spent a while talking to this motorbike driver about Danang, motorcycles, and Vietnamese coffee. Then on to Hoi An.

This guy above sat next to me on the hour bus ride. Hoi An is on every tourist’s list. There are backpackers and old people galore. It is one of the only places untouched by the war, so it still has a lot of the old french and Chinese architecture. And shopping. More tailors than Bangkok, and all sorts of other goodies. I hadn’t bought anything before getting here and even I got talked out of a few bucks. This place flooded last week and it is still all messed up. So it’s not as pretty as you can tell it usually is. But still pretty. After settling into the hotel and a good amount of walking around, I sat down to eat dinner on the balcony of this ancient building. This gaggle of beautiful young Vietnamese girls in long silk dresses sat me and brought me water. It was a beautiful night with a nice breeze, and I was practically in heaven. Then the manager shows up. He looks kind of like Pok with less gel and awkwardly skinny and wearing a suit. He shoves these girls out of the way and insists that he will be waiting on me. Fine, I don’t care, I’m starving. I start to get the feeling he is gay, but it’s hard to tell over here because lots of the men are kind of feminine. Again, I don’t care who brings my food. I had this skewer/spring roll sampler platter and shrimp with cashews and rice. Awesome. I would have eaten there every night if I hadn’t been sexually assaulted after dinner. This is when he brought on the full court press. Upon taking my plates, he put his crotch right up on my arm. So much onto my arm that I had to get out of the chair to get it out of his crotch. Then I asked for the bill and he asked if wanted a massage. All the while telling me I am big and strong and grabbing my arm and shoulder. Then he grabbed my breast. I firmly grabbed his arm and told him that everything was delicious and thank you and to get my bill. He came back with the check and asked me, “do you like ____vietnam?” He mumbled the blank part and I didn’t understand so I asked to repeat. He said it two more times before I realized that he was asking me if I “liked gay Vietnam.” “No, I like Vietnam, not gay Vietnam,” I said very sternly, gave him money, told him to keep the change. And I briskly walked down the stairs and out the front. The whole time being groped on my back and right as I’m crossing the threshold of the place he grabs my ass and says, “I see you tomorrow.” I vaguely remember him asking me if my wife would be joining me and I told him I was single, fatal mistake. The moral of the story is: When dining at fancy restaurants by yourself in the shopping meccas of Asia, make sure you tell the waiter you are married. This restaurant was part of Project Indochina which employs orphaned and abused children and teaches them business skills, pays for college, etc. It was funny to me walking out of there that all these girls from terrible upbringings were looking at me like I was the rape victim. I’ve never felt like such a piece of meat.

~ by deanius on November 21, 2007.