Frat Boys gone wild at the Rugby 7s

Every year, the rugby 7's in Hong Kong gets more and more massive and more and more chaotic and out of control. People from around the globe fly in to see the games, but mostly it’s a boozefest where you can act as silly as you want and be excused for your bad behavīor. (When else are you going to see grown men peeing on each other just because the line for the loo is too long?)

I volunteered to bartend many years ago at the champagne tent and it was cRaZy!! One girl at the tent decided to try to set a world's record to see how many guys she could snog in one night. She managed to stick her tongue down 20 guys throats and got mono as payback for her debauchery.

To be honest, I'm over the decadent revelry, but Saturday night, I inadvertently walked near Lan Kwai Fong and got sucked into the thick of the rugby madness. Some guy in a light tan 70's outfit who was inexplicably wet stopped me to profess his undying love for me (as one does when you've been drinking heavily and wearing your thickest beer goggles).

He was convinced that I was destined to be his future wife and since I told him he wasn't physically my type, he decided to try to impress me with his status, wealth and charm- or at the very least a bottle of cheap bubbly at Stormies. I don't know how I was convinced, but he was so persistent, he persuaded me and my girlfriend to have a drink with him and his equally fancy-dressed friends. So off we went to Stormies for some MOET. (Who the heck drinks champers at Stormies??!! Its a pub for heaven's sake.)

As we maneuvered up the crowded street, we saw guys dressed as nurses, superheroes, shirtless Vikings, Swiss misses, nerds, cows, bunnies etc... There were people wearing blinking pins, sunglasses, wigs and derriere-bearing lycra rowing outfits. There was even one guy dressed as Marilyn Monroe.

We somehow managed to penetrate the sheer wall of drunks in LKF and walked into Stormies where we ran into another mate of theirs who was dressed in nothing but bunny ears and a banana hammock emblazoned with the Union Jack. He had no shame. He was just letting the beer gut and love handles hang out on top of his ill-fitting speedo. Mr. Speedo was wildly out of control and highly amusing in a 'train wreck' kind of way -you know it's going to be horrible, but you can't help but gape.

Upon first meeting him, he turned around, and lowered his briefs- exposing his pimply white behind. Bare-butted, he proceeded to wobble up the steps but lost his balance and fell upon some unsuspecting local guy. The poor guy was trapped under the broad clutches of the Mr. Speedo and was getting helplessly humped.

Once upstairs, the lot of us needed a place to sit so we asked this one girl who was sitting at a booth if we could join her. She politely said yes, but had no idea what a spectacular show was in store for her.

The first thing Mr. Speedo did was to blow out the candle which was on the table. He blew it out so forcefully that everyone was sprayed with hot wax and his own eye got a big hot gob of it. He almost cried, but decided that it would be more fun to get on the table and gyrate like a Chippendales stripper- doggie style. Unfortunately, his head met with the heavy lighting fixture when he got up and he nearly knocked himself out. He was literally terrorizing everyone that got in his path, the waitresses, passer-bys, my girlfriend- everyone. I was just waiting for them to kick him out, but they were just putting up with it. I’m sure they had seen worse throughout the day.

At one point, Mr. Speedo straddled my girlfriend who was visibly disgusted by the falling sweat and BO. She was being a good sport nonetheless. He pulled down the front of his speedo and I thought he was going to show us his wing-ding. Much like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, he pulled out from his underpants a big plastic bag full of coins and bills. It was hilarious that his bulge down below was actually made of money.

After a while he got bored, put his arms around another male friend and started kissing him. There was no reason for it, no one was watching, no one was going to be impressed by the bisexual antics. But they just started making out. At that point we decided that we should just let boys be boys and not interrupt the libertine frat boy antics with our sober maternal presence. We hightailed it out of there as fast as we could. Lan Kwai Fong during the Rugby Sevens is no place for reasonably sober females.