There is a "staff meeting" at The Loft’s rooftop.

"Staff meetings" were just a euphemism we all would use when we got drunk around downtown and would end our nights back behind closed doors at The Loft. Entrusted with the keys by management a large group of the staff had access to the roof which our head barmaids Jessica and Holly had decorated with ropes of lights, canopying across from the roof entry way all the way across to a telephone post on the edge of the building.

Seeing as most of us work during the weekend, a big bunch of us would go out midweek so that our little after-hours spot became quite popular, filled with friends, dates, friends of friends and people we're hoping to fuck. I was there stag tonight which makes it kind of fun because I get to bounce around from social circle to social circle, not working, not worrying about the increasingly complex Thai love triangle I find myself in and got to just relax.

It's around 3am when everything at the "staff meeting" really gets into swing and everybody has done quite a bit of heavy lifting. Steve, out of the hospital is talking nonstop about what it took to get his erection down and nobody believes nurses were fighting over the opportunity to give him a sponge bath.

Nobody comes to the roof to talk business, but it's unavoidable when you have a group of people who all work together and as I see Aaron stumbling in with a gaggle of bro's, muscle bound bouncer types. I suppose I shouldn’t look down on them, seeing as I am technically one of them, but they really are exactly what you'd think of if I said, "picture 5 drunk bouncers partying together”. As a bouncer, we typically identify that as a ‘problem’ but they're just like everyone else on the roof, there because they aren't ready for their night to end.

I have to clear with Aaron that I can get my weekend off so I can be at Yui's thing at St. Magdalena's, as well as the next night for Piya's pool party.

Drunk and a bit agro about it Aaron will only give me the weekend off if I do a keg stand, the four bouncers he's hanging out with start chanting and pressuring me to, so there is no way for me to get out of it. Besides I’m drunk too, so there isn’t much reason to think I wouldn’t do it.

The thing about keg stands on The Loft is that the tradition has become that you wind up having to do it, dangling off the roof. The keg we bring from downstairs is wedged in the corner of the roof just over the street and as I am gripping onto the rim of the keg I feel my feet getting lifted up and brought over my head by the four guys who are chanting. Aaron has me by my belt buckle, assuring me he's got me, “I got you bro.” I don’t know if I can chalk it up to practice, or if there is genuinely something safe feeling about Aaron but as my head is dangling upside down off a three-story building, blood rushing into my brain as beer is being blasted down my throat, I’m not too worried about falling. Even when a bit of vertigo sends me wobbling, my guys in security hold me and keep me from plummeting. They also don’t let me down for quite a while, so no reason to deem these meatheads saints.

When I am finally allowed back to my feet, my eyes are watering and bulging and beer is running down my neck and soaking my shirt. My head is also feeling light and what was a moderately strong buzz has become a majorly strong one.

But, Aaron has assured me I can have the time off, so that means my weekend is freed up for whatever craziness will come its way and knowing that, for the first time all night I start thinking about Piya and Yui, a lot. The flood gates are open and my drunken rambling ass starts talking about my week to anyone who will listen.

Everyone I talk to, or at least every group of people has someone that knows some detail about Piya and the night where she was wearing her shimmering silver dress. How we were dancing that night is the stuff of legend and rumour.

The powder Steve snorted is literally everyone’s favourite story. But even with all that, very few people want to listen to a drunk man ramble on and on about how hard it is to have two gorgeous women who want to fuck you. Champagne problems don’t illicit sympathy and I’m not doing myself any favours with how I’m explaining my situation I’m sure.

The people I’m talking to congratulate me, either when I show them Yui’s Instagram and they see how cute and sexy she is, or when they talk about my hand pushing up Piya’s dress on the dance floor and how beautiful she was grinding onto me.

No one is giving me the response my drunken self is looking for and it takes Jessica and Holly forcing a water bottle into my hand for me to settle down enough to have a deep and meaningful conversation.