The Sulky Surfer — A Night Out in Uluwatu, Bali
“Now I feel lost…” He avoided my sympathetic gaze and sulked openly.
“Why do you feel lost?”
“You are the captain of the ship, and I am lost…Why did you match with me?”
I was witnessing the descent of a man reverting into a child before my very eyes. He was not taking this romantic rejection very well, and I felt bad, of course I felt bad, but I wasn’t sure what to do or say anymore.
I scolded myself for inviting him to join us tonight. Tonight was supposed to be a fun girls night out with Lola showing Kalita and I the best of Uluwatu on a Saturday, but when he asked me to go for sunset, I stupidly suggested he join us for dinner at Mason.
He showed up an hour late, after we had finished dinner, then ordered two gin and tonics without asking me if I wanted anything. He was from Brazil, had adopted a Balinese family on Balangan Beach, taught surfing and apparently led local cock fighting rings. He talked a lot about himself, and when I was tired of asking questions, I filled uncomfortable gaps of silence with awkward smiles that he took for flirty eye contact.
He came with us to El Solito, and as soon as we arrived he suggested we go to the back alone, without the girls. Dammit. So I obliged, and the minute we sat down he started rubbing my back and I knew — I knew I didn’t want this. Want him. My body language was clear, and he wasn’t blind.
“So.”
“So…”
“Do you like me?”
“I just met you.”
“Why are you like this now?”
“Like what?”
“At the restaurant you were smiling, flirting, now you seem…not so…”
“We just met, I don’t really know you yet.”
“It doesn’t matter if we just meet, I think you like me, I feel…there is electric, yes I know it will be good — why don’t you kiss me, hug me, and we find out?”
“Why are you pushing me?”
“Well I don’t want go round and rolling, just tell me do you like me or not?”
“Well, I would have given you time if you were more patient, for us to get to know each other more, but since you are pushing me like this now, I will give you a straight answer. The answer is no.”
God had my back, because at that moment the heavens parted and rain came gushing down like sharp wet bullets. We ran for cover, and that’s where this story began, the part where the manchild monster had revealed itself.
“Why you match with me then?”
“Because that’s what dating is,” I explained so slowly a six year old could have understood, “You match with someone, you meet them, and then you decide if there’s chemistry or not.”
“Then kiss me now and we will find out. It’s not like I want to have sex tonight.”
Each word that came out of his mouth dug him a deeper hole. How. Dare. He? Gross.
“No, you pushed me too fast, and I’ve made a decision. You asked for a straight answer so I gave you one. This isn’t going to work.”
“Why…why you do this to me. Maybe I go home now.”
“I’m not staying here long either,” I offered. I probably should have just kept quiet though. Nothing I was saying meant anything to him anymore.
“I don’t see my friends here, I don’t know anywan…” He looked like a dog that had just been kicked. He was whimpering, and his eyes wandered around the venue. Then they lit up. “Oh I know that guy, he’s my friend.”
I turned around to see who he was looking at. A tall white guy with dreadlocks talking to another, shorter, white guy.
“But he’s with his friend,” he lamented. “He don’t wanna talk to me, he’s with a Bule*.”
“You’re a bule!” I exclaimed exasperatedly. “What are you talking about??”
“Seh-tengah*,” he moped. He was literally full Brazilian. “And the drinks is expensive for me here. Better I go home and drink, smoke up. Anyway, I get along better with local girls…real Indonesian girls…Brazilian girls…”
He turned to walk back inside without acknowledging me. Part of me was relieved. It was done. He would leave, and I could enjoy the night out I had originally intended with the girls. The other part of me was disgusted. He hadn’t offered to buy me a single drink, and then he melted into a tantrum after I denied him a kiss. A younger girl might have given in to the pressure. That was a concerning thought. But I’m a grown ass woman who loves to do the opposite of what I’m told it seems. Kiss you? Fuck you. Ugh! No more surfers, Christina, EVER.
He walked excruciatingly slow, but didn’t turn back to check on me. The bar was narrow and crowded, but I happily let people jostle into me, creating plenty of space between him and I. Once we found the girls at the corner end of the bar, I said, “You can still say goodbye you know.”
“I know…”
He hugged Lola and Kalita goodbye. Kalita shot me a look. I rolled my eyes. He didn’t say goodbye to me. As soon as he was out of earshot the girls demanded an explanation.
“It didn’t work out,” I shrugged. I wanted to enjoy the little time we had left tonight without wasting any more of my energy on him. They nodded and we finished our drinks, surveying the little bar with its eclectic crowd. Men in their forties and fifties with lots of beads around their necks. Young hipster girls with cool tattoos. Burnt orange tourists with dry, bleached blonde hair.
“Come on girls,” Lola announced. “Let’s cross the street to Taboo. Come come.”
It was still raining heavily, so we waited a few minutes. Kalita grabbed my arm and looked towards the road, her eyes bulging with repulsion. A long haired bule in board shorts and nothing else — no shoes and no shirt in sight — was running down the street completely drenched and stepping through puddles barefoot. I sighed and laughed, but Kalita shook her head in disgust. These Bali streets are covered in trash, feces, and prepackaged typhoid. There was nothing ‘grounding’ or ’natural’ about walking around this island barefoot!
Lola surveyed the rain and signaled us to make a run for it. “It’s okay, we will have that sexy wet look by the time we get there!”
I marveled at Lola’s determination. She was wearing black strappy heels tonight and maneuvered through the wet crumbled asphalt like a pro.
“How do you do this in those heels, Lola?!”
“This is nothing! In Serbia I wear heels in the snow!”
We dodge murky potholes and covered our faces with our hands. Sadly, Taboo was half empty, the vibe was tired, and the music was just not good enough to keep us there for long.
“Alright — one last stop. Let’s go see what Hatch has to offer us!” Lola rallied us back to our cars.
We parked at the Mini Mart next to Hatch, Kalita and I in her car and Lola in hers. When Lola didn’t come out of her car right away, we thought we might have a chance to call it a night. I was eyeing the snack section inside MiniMart…it brought me more joy than anyone in the bar crowd had tonight.
“Maybe she’s ready to go home too,” I said hopefully.
“Yesss, call her! Or text her. I need to poop!” Kalita had been ready to crawl back into her cave after dinner, but she was doing her best to be more social and ‘put herself out there’ this year.
Lo…Hatch looked pretty dead ya?
Kalita needs to poop
We go home aja?
Lola stepped out her car as soon as I sent it and approached my door. “Ready girls?”
“Kalita needs to poop!” I announced.
“Well can you hold it?” Lola snapped lightheartedly. Kalita and I blushed and laughed. “Come on, one last stop. You can do this.”
We begrudgingly got out of the car and followed our fearless leader into…a very sad, large but empty surfer bar with tacky colored lights and the last drunken stragglers of the night. Kalita and I looked at eachother. The three of us had dressed up quite elegantly for Mason, and had somehow ended up in the 2023 Uluwatu version of Paddies Kuta nightclub. If you know you know. 50 Cent’s In Da Club followed by Vanilla Ice blared through the barren space, save a handful of sweaty white guys on the dance floor. Oh, one was attempting to breakdance now.
I did my best to humor the situation and started twerking subtly. Lola, similarly, began her signature fist bumping move. Kalita physically could not wipe off the look of disgust from her face, but she did try to swallow the pain — I think — I saw her throat swallow…or maybe she was trying not to throw up.
A tall white guy in crutches came up to me. His right leg had been amputated at the knee.
“Come on let’s go dance!” He grinned at me as he confidently entered our little bougie bubble.
“Oh no, I’m okay!” I think he was handsome. Maybe just tall.
“Why not! Come on!”
I looked over at the empty dance floor then looked at him and shouted back, “It’s too crowded! There’s too many people, I can’t breathe!” I fanned my face with an air of mock arrogance.
He studied me to check if I was serious, and I laughed at his confusion.
“Really? That’s too crowded?”
“Yes! Much too crowded!” The girls were laughing with me now. He laughed with us and shot his best shot.
“Where are you from!”
“Jakarta!” Then I pointed to Kalita and said, “She’s from Bali!” I gestured to Lola. “She’s from Egypt!” Lola shook her head and laughed. “Where are you from?”
“I’m from Wales!”
“Ahh Wales. Land of the Ocean.”
He cocked his head and paused. Abort, abort, I thought to myself. Kalita was already one step ahead.
“Yuk sai.” She was in the lead, Lola behind her, heading for the exit.
I turned to follow them and waved at Mr. One Leg. “Okay bye!”
“Wait! Can I kiss you?” He leaned in prematurely.
“Oh no-no don’t do that-” I said it rapidly like I was telling a student not to use a permanent marker on the whiteboard. I couldn’t help but glance at his leg. What would it be like to…Christina, No.
“Just on the cheek!”
I looked at him and looked at his leg again. I’ve never been with a…Christina — stop looking!
“Oh, okay, on the cheek is fine.”
I automatically gave him the Indo kiss, one peck on each cheeck, to which he mused, “Ahh very French.”
Wasn’t French 3 kisses? I shook my head and laughed as I rushed to catch up with the girls.
“Au Revoir,” he called after me.
The three of us were in a fit of giggles as soon as we were back on the street.
“Did you ask him what happened to his leg?” Kalita asked.
“I didn’t!”
“Chriiis!“
“I felt bad!”
“Did you get his number?” Lola wiggled her eyebrows.
“No guys he was super drunk-”
“But aren’t you curious what-”
“Yes! It was all I could think about when he was talking to me!” Another symphony of laughter spilled out into the humid drizzling sky. We were back at MiniMart by our cars.
“Well Lo, thank you for such a lovely night and showing us the best of Uluwatu! It was so much fu-“
“Nooo No No No,” she refused my hug as she wailed, “It’s usually much better than this girls I promise! Please believe me.”
Kalita and I cackled with amusement. We did NOT believe her. I had a sudden pang of ‘kangen’* for Canggu nightlife. You never know what you’ll miss until it’s gone.
Everything closed early in Uluwatu. Most of the men didn’t wear shoes. The ones that wore shirts thought they were only supposed to utilize one out of the 10 buttons. Everyone was extra burnt and crispy, in an uncomfortable looking way. The surf crowd was a cult — if you didn’t surf, you were left outside its borders.
This was a good place for me to hunker down and focus on my career. I wouldn’t be distracted by the parties out here, or the men, apparently.
“Still, Lola, thank you.” This was her hood and it was so sweet of her to give me the welcoming tour of her favorite spots.
Once we were in the car, I told Kalita what had happened in the back patio of El Solito.
“Then he said, ‘so why were you smiling and flirting with me the whole time at dinner?’ I was smiling because I was genuinely curious and interested in his stories! I just, you know…I have a really open heart!
“And an open vag!”
“Shut uppp Lit!” We cracked into giggles and I quickly added, “Slightly parted, at most.”
More laughter, then deep sighs as we fell silent for a moment. I think we were both thinking about what snacks we wanted to munch on when we got home. I loved this part of the night — the drive home, the unclasping of our bras, the late night raid of the fridge, and the recapping of the night’s highs and lows.
Kalita groaned, and I saw her grip tighten on the steering wheel. “It just makes me so mad that he was forcing you to kiss him!”
“Yeah,” I waved a hand dismissively, “It’s all good. I’m a grown woman I can handle myself. But what’s concerning is younger girls having to deal with that — if that ever happened to one of my nieces…just the thought of it pisses me off.”
Kalita frowned, her eyes watching for deep potholes, but her mind imagining which one of her tattoo artist’s gang friends she’d call on if the Brazilian had so much as laid a finger on me.
When we were back home, happily snacking on cheese, chocolate balls and salami — I couldn’t help but wonder…
How soon should you let a guy know you’re not into them? Within 10 minutes? 30 minutes? Two days? And what’s the best way to word it so it quickly penetrates their thick salty skull?
How often do girls give into kissing a man they don’t really like, just because they feel pressured or ‘feel bad’?
But most importantly, what would sex be like with a one legged man?
Bahasa Indonesia Glossary:
Bule: Westerner, Foreigner, Tourist, Expatriate — usually referring to non-Asian foreigners with lighter skin
Setengah: Half
Kangen: Longing, to miss
