The bartender 'helps' you

Just as you feel like you were about to suddenly keel over, you feel an arm wrap around your belly to keep you steady. Nodding your head to the side while incredibly maintaining not to spill your new drink, you see the face of the bartender who just served you. He was a local, like some of the crew. You don't seem to know him personally. In fact, he looked new. He asked if you were alright, which you replied that you were perfectly fine in a drunken slur. For some reason, you felt like you could not move a muscle except to stop yourself from stumbling again. The man offered to get you a cab for a ride back home, since you were way too sloshed to go about alone. Obviously, you refused. You wanted to see your friends and keep partying in Smoking Time. He seemed to insist, and you were half carried along in some direction you cannot identify. You could feel his arms pulling you around, and it did not even occur to you that his hand was groping your ample tits over your yellow one piece. He shamelessly kneaded and squeezed as you were led to what seemed like the entrance, but it was in fact the back door into the alley behind the club. You responded to the change of scenario in your stupor by joking about how the lights have gone out. It was quite dark tonight back here.

The bartender assured you that you will be at your hotel room soon. Instead of taking you to the main road however, he seemed to be bringing you further into the back towards a dead end. He knocks on a door. Your vision was too blurry to make out who was in front of you, but you do hear a voice speaking in the local tongue in shallow, hushed voices. You wanted to speak, but your words asking where you were drowned out into an unintelligent drone. Unable to protest, you were carried in, the door closing behind you.

Inside was what might look like a dirty shophouse. You could not make out what was inside it since there was only a few dim lights in the room that cast a dark orange light over your face. You could hear what sounds like a ceiling fan and several voices all around you, speaking loudly in what might be cheering and whistling. It made you crack a stupid smile. You thought you were back in the club.