Yummy Magazine Vol 13 - Taste Of India | Page 50

MAN ABOUT TOWN TEXT JACKSON BIKO ART MOVIN WERE DRINKING ALONE Jackson Biko, is a lover of whisky and people watching. He likes to walk the shadows of the city at dusk, picking conversations of a people spurred by the night and by their drink. I do not drink alone. I never drink alone. I admire guys who walk into a bar and order a stiff one and sit there alone with their thoughts. Staring into their glasses. Not bothering with their environ. Ignoring the music. Then they have two, three doubles and then ask for the bill. Then they walk away from it all, like they were never there. They go home. Or in a cave somewhere. Or whatever forsaken place it is that people who drink alone go to. I think I would die of depression if I drunk alone. I think I would feel forsaken, lost and aggrieved. I would drown my drink and head straight to talk to a priest. Maybe I would weep as I confessed my sins. Maybe my lips would tremble as I narrated my woes, and all the love I gave that did not go bequeathed. I would mostly likely be the sob who used words like “bequeathed.” It is for these reasons that I avoid drinking alone. Well, that was until I found myself on top of the tallest 50. building in Bangkok, Baiyoke Sky Hotel. The bar - The Rooftop Bar - sat perched on the 83rd floor, overlooking the stunning vista of the city with burning tendrils of roads and trains crisscrossing the city. Stunning. I sat against the window, my nose pressed to it, ignoring my Cuba Libre. I did not feel like having a whisky or a cognac, and when the waiter suggested a cocktail, I asked for a Cuba Libre because I once watched a movie where this deadbeat musician would drink it backstage in a small grumpy backstreet bar where he was trying to pick the pieces of his life, career and passion. A befitting drink for the mood I was in up there on the 83rd floor like the undecided soul of a departed soldier. I was finally drinking alone and hating every moment of it. I did not want company either. I w