Clubber Cinderella

Once upon a time, back in the days when I was still not sick of clubbing, I used to join this gang of clubbers which consisted mainly of my fellow colleagues. We used to hit the hippest joint in town, partying and drinking till the wee hours of the morning, having hangover and blackened eyes the next day and despite that, we would still tell each others that we were having loads of fun.

One of the most memorable characters from those wild clubbing days was a girl called Cindy. She had this crazy rule that she has to get home by twelve. Because of this we nicknamed her Cinderella. We have no idea why she is such an unsporting person and for God’s sake, she was 28 and all that – but like all true comrades, we accepted her shortcoming hesitatingly. Just to be safe however, the gang leader – Ryan would always ask her to drive herself so as not to inconvenience ourselves – although in reality it might not be so safe for her to drive alone at nights.

Cinderella tried explaining once that she has an evil stepmother with fangs and claws and even horns like Lucifer. The stepmother set a rule that no matter where she is, she must be home by 12 or else all her Bae Yong Joon posters would be confiscated and burned.

On top of this ridiculous rule, the stepmother also brings along two daughters from previous marriage into the family – with evil names of Devila and Lucyfa. These stepsisters of her would torture her to no end, stealing her expensive bra and wearing it without her permission. To make it worse, they didn’t bother to handwash it – just throw it into the washing machine. There goes another one of her Triumph Wonderbra – auch!

Talking about depressing things like this, however, tends to make me depressed – so I would like to skip to more uplifting stuffs, like this one day when Ryan brought along news that there would be this extravagant ball in town on the coming weekend.

“A ball? Is it some kind of parade with a big balloon?” one of the less learned members of our clubbing gang asked.

“No, you idiot. A ball is a party held by rich bored people where the guest must wear pretentious costumes. For clubbers like us, it would the event of the year.”

The organizer, a renowned bachelor from a royal family nicknamed The Playboy Prince, allegedly held the ball to choose his next girlfriend. Since this Playboy Prince was a very rich dude with servants and all that – Ryan conjectured that a lot of gorgeous young women would be dying to be his girlfriend – and hence would be at this particular event.

Every one of us couldn’t wait for this ball of the year - especially the guys. In our opinion, since Playboy Prince would only choose one girl, all the other candidates would be available for other lucky dudes to court. So we went around buying all sorts of costumes in anticipation of this not-to-be-missed party.

The girls in our groups didn’t want to be left out as well – who knows? Maybe Playboy Prince will choose one of them.

The only person who wasn’t looking forward to this ball was Cindy. The reason – as we soon learned – was that her stepsisters were invited as VIPs to the ball, and according to Cindy, they purposely confiscated all her nice dresses and costumes – leaving her with nothing to wear but T-shirts and jeans.

Ryan – who always stood for his gangmembers – tried to think of a way to help her. After much thinking and arching of eyebrows, Ryan finally spoke up:

“In that case, Cindy, since you have nothing nice to wear to the ball, I think the best way is for you to stay home on that night.”

Needless to say, upon hearing Ryan’s words, Cindy was heartbroken and went home to cry. She cried and cried until the day of the ball itself, locking herself in her room and even refusing to go to work.

Her evil stepsisters – in a move to further rub salt to her wound – purposely talked about the ball in a very excited and loud manner every time they passed her room.

When all seems lost, suddenly on the evening of the big event, there was a puff of smoke in Cindy’s room and an old woman with 60s hairstyle and a winged white costume appeared before her. The old woman looked ominously like Lydia Sum, a famous Hong Kong talk show host who passed away not so long ago. Too depressed to be scared, Cindy just looked at the woman listlessly.

“I am your fairy Godmother and I am here to help you,” the Lydia Sum look-alike said.

“Am I dreaming?” Cindy asked.

The old woman ignored her impertinent question and instead she took from behind her a skin tight rubber costume with a matching headcover.

“This will fit you nicely and Playboy Prince would fall for you with no doubt.”

Cindy put the costume up and looked at herself in the mirror.

“I looked like Catwoman,” she said.

“That’s the whole idea. To look irresistible.”

“But what kind of shoes should I wear with this?”

Like a magician, the fairy Godmother took a pair of crystal clear high heels from behind her. “Wear this…a crystal made shoes from Swarovski.”

“It’s so dazzling,” Cindy said and put it on. “And best of all, it’s a correct size!”

Next the issue of transport came up, but the fairy Godmother came well prepared. She told Cindy to look out of the window and lo, behold – there was a BMW and with a Bangladesh driver waiting for her outside.

To cut our story short, moments later, the BMW was cruising towards the location of the ball with the excited Cindy inside. She arrived to standing ovation and the Prince was dumbfounded because he had never seen someone in rubber skin suit before. For the rest of the night, Cinderella and the prince were constantly in each other’s company, and the two sisters, who did not even recognize their own stepsister, were rather flattered when Cindy said “Hi” to them.

The hours flew by so fast that Cindy did not even notice the time until the clock began to strike midnight. Knowing well that her stepmother would be infuriated if she didn’t get home, with a cry of alarm she fled from the room. One of the glass high-heels flew from her foot and landed on Playboy Prince’s head, knocking him unconscious.

When the prince came to his senses, Cindy was already gone. The prince grabbed the Swarovski high heel and said determinedly: “I must find this woman no matter what.”

The next day, the search for the owner of the high heels began. Playboy Prince paid a bunch of private investigators and after days of investigations, they managed to narrow down the most probable owners down to the house where Cindy was living – after allegedly obtaining information from a Bangladeshi driver who said that he was hired by a fat old woman to drive a woman in rubber suit to a ball from that house.

The prince – upon hearing this – went to Cindy’s house in person. He held a glass shoe on one hand and announced that any lady in the house who could fit the shoe on her foot and could produce the pair would be his wife. Both stepsisters tried, but their feet were too montrous to squeeze in. In the end Cindy begged to try, and, to the scorn of her sisters, the prince agreed.

The glass high heel slipped easily on, and Cindy pulled the matching pair from her pocket.

The prince was overjoyed. However, the jealous stepsisters decided on the spur of the moment to sabotage Cindy’s happy moments. They poured hot boiling waters on her and Cindy cried out in agony, her face scalded badly.

The Playboy Prince’s joy turned into disgust.

“Crap,” he said. “How could I marry a woman with a face like this?”

With that, he turned to walk away – and Cindy would never see him in her life again.

Cindy – scarred for life by her stepsister’s irresponsible jealousy – related the whole story to us. Although her face did look burned in a way, we found it hard to believe her story hundred percent.

Ryan – who always stood by his clubbing friends no matter what – tried to think of a way to console her. After much thinking and arching of eyebrows, Ryan finally spoke up:

“Cindy, I think you should not go clubbing with us anymore. This face of yours is kind of embarrassing…”