"It's all this cold-hearted fucking that is death and idiocy."
D.H Lawrence, Lady Chatterley's Lover.
Sean didn't really know Vin when he seduced the mad Croatian's girlfriend. Sure they had met briefly in Hong Kong and sure everybody thought Vin was a good guy. Alcoholics are generally popular. It wasn't until Vin managed to get a new passport and came back to Taipei the second time that they became firm friends. By then it was too late for post coital morals. Of course, Sean kept his mouth shut that he had screwed Angel. It wouldn't have done anybody any good, least of all himself.
Angel Wang was an ex general's daughter who ran FUBAR in downtown Taipei. Attractive with rag doll permed hair and a ready giggle, Angel used to say; "ok, who wants a shot?" and most of the time, everyone would. Then she would oblige and give a B52 or a tequila. Straight up and down. Gratis. Angel would always join them. She also drank too much. Oh yeah, the bar was called the Fubar as in the acronym. As in fucked up beyond all recognition . If you went to the Fubar often enough, then you were pretty much guaranteed to get fucked up occasionally. Really a great bar. Nothing too much. But there were murals covering the walls in colours of Van Goghish intensity. A dart board. STAR Sports and a stack of albums favoured guests could play themselves. Oak tables and benches. Free shots. Angel and Eileen serving on the bar - both knock out women. Eileen had a rose tattoo on her right breast and worked as a stockbroker during the day. Chilli soup and toasted tuna sandwiches. Popular without being too popular. When Sean wanted to smoke, he would go outside into the lane and light up a joint and look at the building works at the teaching college across the way. They were building a giant sporting complex including a 50 metre swimming pool, a gymnasium and a car park. The building company dug a terrific hole in no time flat and then it all stopped. No progress happened for six months. Somebody went broke or stole money. Anyway it was a wonderful hole with lots of metal bars and girders and stuff to look at while he slowly got a buzz. An occasional bike would go by or somebody he knew would walk out of one of the bars or a pretty girl would pass by. There was plenty to look at anyway until he finished the spliff and went back inside the Fubar and bought himself another Guinness or let Angel pour him another shot. All in all, the FUBAR was simply a wonderful place. And every time Dinan thought about it, the name seemed so clever. The pun on bar and the descriptive acronym, that is; but he guessed some folks are easily pleased.
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