Shannon disappears at the concert hall

After the closing ceremony of the ghats, we hop in the tuk-tuk, whiz through the streets and end up at some tiny concert hall. Listen to some shitty music thats turns us to leaving. Tim gets up and goes outside and then I go out a minute later and hes gone... gone. I check the shitter to see if he is clogging toilets again, but he isn't there nor is our driver, Krishna. Back inside, I sat with the guy who drank from the Ganges... and he too is wondering where they went.

The concert ends like 30 minutes later, people leave, save a few travelers... and im getting approached by a she-male version of Steven Tyler. Greatly timed, Shannon and Krishna come back with a bottle of whiskey to save me from the beast... er, just make fun of me. Then the concert hall owner kicks everyone out, and basically tells to the tranny "get the hell out" and its the four of us.

Of course, I'm in a constant state of uncomfortableness which doesn't allow me to fully enjoy the whiskey. Then again, I don't think I ever enjoyed sipping whiskey.

We finish this bottle in about 30 minutes, and Krishna starts humping the air and talking about the kama sutra. Then goes on to explain what to do, in case you don't want to have sex. Video will be uploaded soon!

Response:
Wow Hahn, you left out about 75% of that story. Late that night we get led to another one of Krishna's buddies place, who happens to own and operate an enclosed space next to his house which he built a small stage and sitting area, with a thin rug and some pillows you could sit on. So we were directed by Krishna and his buddy to sit, and listen while Krishna grabbed some really bad tasting snacks for us to eat. So the lights went down, and two dudes sat on stage and played some instruments while we sat and watched them in the dim lighting. Who else was there?...Who the hell knows, but it was about 20 other people, 90% travelers around our age. So we all lined the walls and watched. Oh shit, I almost forgot. As an example of Krishna's tact, before the show started, there was a white girl standing with her boyfriend with their backs to us. The girl had decently short hair and kinda not a feminine face, and as soon as Krishna saw her, he walked up to her, interrupts her conversation with another traveler, and says, "Oh, with your hair, and your face, I thought you were a man". The girl in some european english slang replied, "Ok thanks". Her boyfriend just stood there dumbfounded, and they retired to the other side of the room. Hahn starts dying immediately, and I almost shoot chicken curry out of my ass. Neither of us even bothered to try and correct him. Fucking Krishna.
Anyway, halfway through the concert, doesn't this super lanky, from what I can tell from the dim light, decently looking chick walk in and sit across the way from Hahn and I. She bums a cigarette from the weird white kid sitting next to her, and watches the rest of the show as two younger boys sitting next to me on my left, one indian, one white-ish, eye her up and whisper about, probably, who's going to hit it first. So the concert ends, everyone claps, the lights go up, and apparently now its time for dancing. Well not for me its not. Im tired, my ankle is still fucked up from soccer, and quite frankly, Im not wasting my time dancing in India. I believe I tell Hahn something to this effect, but it's too late for him, Krishna's friend already has him anchored in to dance, and is directing him around to help get this Indian disco started. I walk out into the breezeway where are shoes are stored, and Krishna follows. I tell him the same, and Krishna and I go outside. The man who owns the place, his young son appears, and Krishna gets him to produce a scooter from some shadow somewhere, and Krishna and I go zooming through the alleys to the nearest liquor store, which is a closet shop with metal bars for a door that you reach your money through, and the employees reach back through and hand you want you want. I guess its either lock yourself in or get over run by the crowd of people wanting to get booze. Tough city. So we go back, and apparently while I was securing spirits, fucking Don Juan over there was wooing up the mystery woman who entered the concert late. I walk in with my trophy, and doesn't Hahn have his own trophy that's trying to follow him home by jumping in his pocket. Seriously, I walk in and the two of them are sitting there against the wall. Hahn is straight up, and she's leaning all into him, both all sweating from cutting the proverbial cheap Indian rug. So anyway, the two younger kids that were eyeballing her from the beginning finally admitted defeat, and left, but not after giving Hahn and her a long stare down. As they departed I gave them a hearty "better luck next time". They just looked at me. No one had any idea what I was talking about. No shit. Get out of here you kids, I'm not sharing my whiskey with you dumbasses. So at this point, its me, Krishna, Hahn, the Owner, and mystery girl. 2 minutes go by, and the Owner, as Hahn said, basically kicks her out, but not without a fight. The Owner says there is a hotel with vacancy literally right around the corner, and he'd be happy to call to get her a room. The chick, who was decent in dim light, but now a bit odd looking in the direct, immediately tries to smooth talk Hahn into going back with her for "some drinks", or whatever she said she had with her in her pack. Hahn played it cool though, and sent that crazy hippie floozy packing. That and she had hands the size of an NBA center, and very well might have been hung like one as well. (Hahn, chime in if you remember where she said she was from, or what even her name was...should of just wrapped it up and went with her you pussy...would have made a great story if nothing else...and perhaps a vd.) So she finally leaves, the bottle of whiskey gets popped open, and Krishna and the Owner laugh themselves into tears while they rip Hahn a new one for almost getting taken home by a tranny with glasses and giant appendages, for at least 15 minutes straight. It truly is funny to watch 2 Indian guys, one who can speak english and one who can't, cry themselves silly thanks to your friend. Awesome. At least the Owner learned a new english word, 'tranny': chick with dick.
So to finish this up, we all get straight hammered in about 45 minutes or so, and Krishna goes on about "Never, ever, trust an India man", money, and his family. And for the first time we get a glimpse of an Indian male actually not trying to rip us off, and treating us like human beings. (He would later try to rip us off, but hey, at least we got the real him for an hour or so.) Krishna would later go on, in drunken slur, about his sexual techniques, and as Hahn mentioned, his sexual push-ups that he loves to perform...with full demonstration on a phantom woman underneath him (Where's the picture of that Hahn?)
We also got a great view of regular Indian life, as the Owner, in his drunk stupidity, made us enter is house, and say hi to his wife...its now about midnight. I think he was trying to just play a small joke on her, but as he pushed Hahn and I into his dark bedroom, only illuminated by the glow of a small tv, the awkwardness level went from 0 to 60 in one glance. So now his wife is laying in bed, looking at us, wondering why too white boys are in her house, in her bedroom. I love awkward situations, I find them hilarious and genuine, and it usually gets me into some trouble when I just start laughing. But this was even a bit much for me. So Hahn and I make a hasty exit, and Krishna, the crazy fuck that he is, proceeds to drive us home in the tuk tuk bombed out of his gourd (after telling us he shouldn't), all the while periodically taking his hands off the wheel and howling at the moon. I hope we have enough space on the blog to upload the video, cause it's tits....
Im not even going to go back and correct any blatant grammatical errors...its 2:30am and Im spent...