I'm high on love.
And in all sense of the word.
Right now, I'm sipping Rose from a flute, taking in the bird's eye view of Orchard Road and beyond.
The light that shone in from the 360-floor-to-ceiling glass panel and the two-storey wine cellar right smack in the middle of the Club was a sight to behold.
My partner of more than 20 years J had put together an impromptu staycation recently and this is the start of it.
Partly, it's because the two of us always make it an effort to inject romance into our coupled lives.
But I know it's mainly 'cos J noticed my recent signs of burnout from work (nothing serious).
And so, J, who had signed up for a membership at 67 Pall Mall not too long ago, brought me to the exclusive high-end club for Friday brunch to kickstart our staycay weekend.
And to J's credit, he bothered dressing up even if it was his usual pale blue office shirt rolled up to his elbows.
The patrons at the club is well-heeled. Many socialite types. Many high-powered corporate types. A quick glance, and I also spot a few familiar faces not because I know them, but 'cos I've seen them on TV.
It's that sort of crowd and even though I'm an outsider and will never belong in those high-society circles, I am not letting that bother me.
I am enjoying the moment with J, thankful and excited for our high-altitude brunch which comprised bite-size scallop appetisers, fish, pasta and, of course, wine.
J told me the entire premises of the two-storey club used to be the penthouse of Run Run Shaw, pointing out where the cinema magnate would host his dinner parties that made up of movie stars.
J knew because he was given a personal tour by the GM that ran the Club the day he and his colleagues from the firm came for lunch. All of them were subsequently given discounts to join the Club and J took it only because the discount wasn't small (and turning it down would have been un-nice since the firm has dealings with the Club).
The food, to be fair, was extremely nice (it better be).
It was also over brunch that I appreciated J even more.
Friday meals would always be meat-free for him since he's Catholic but he decided I was worth it to break his routine (and for that, I am thankful).
Feeling tipsy (mainly from the experience), we set off from Shaw House to our actual staycation place: Fullerton by the Bay after brunch.
And it was at the hotel lobby that I smiled inwardly, recognising yet another gesture borne out of two decades of love.
J reminded the receptionist that we needed a huge queen-size bed and not twin beds. Something he used to feel uncomfortable saying in our past travels as a young gay couple.
Our schedule was perfect. Perfect because one, I didn't have to plan anything. And two, it was my idea of a perfect staycation.
The type where we don't need to get out much for activities. Most activities will be confined to the room. The bed (activities which need not be explicitly spelt out), the balcony (for us to indulge in magazine-flipping or reading an actual book over a glass of wine, or simply to stand side by side to watch sunset), or the bath tub (for purposes other than bathing).
J has finally given in after all these years.
You see, J is the adventurous and cultural sort. Wherever we are in the world -- Israel, Jordan, Australia, US, you name it -- he would want to experience something historical and cultural.
Me on the other hand, will always want the best food and alcohol and dress up for photo ops.
I jumped for joy and hugged J, planting a dramatic dry kiss on his lips the way loving grandparents would do to their precious grand kids, when I stepped into our room which boasts a magnificent view of the Singapore River bay.
And like a child, I held J's hand and explored every corner of the room punctuating every landmark of the room with a kiss on his cheek.
Oooh, there's a bath tub! A kiss on J's cheek. The balcony view is like staring into a 3-D tourism postcard! A kiss on J's cheek. And there's TWG tea which you love! I swept all the packets into our bag and grinned at J like a burglar who's gotten lucky.
J just looked at me and laughed at my antics, amused by his silly partner who's entertaining himself.
After we unpacked, we began the first item on our staycay agenda.
Nap. And then some. But unlike sex bunny friend Stanley, I don't kiss and tell. I only tell the kisses of others.
When we woke up, it was nearly dinner time.
And gosh. Can I just say that it felt good.
We had both, as driven, passionate career men, never taken naps on Fridays -- a working day. But to have the luxury of snuggling and allowing yourself to doze off for three hours after a tipsy brunch... it's one of the most amazing feelings in the world.
I snuggled closer to J and found my happy spot on his body -- the nook between his neck and collar bone and inhaled. J was warm and smelled of his Neutrogena rainshower gel that he uses.
I didn't want to move. At that point, I hoped time could freeze so that I could enjoy J's warmth that's emitting not just from his body but also his heart.
But move I must. Because J had started tickling me out of bed to which, he said "after all these years, you're still so vulnerable."
For the next two days, we didn't have a lot to do.
But they were activities that I would want to do, and knowing that J had curated those activities just for me meant the world to me.
As soon as we got out of our very warm queen size bed, we would dress up for dinner at the hotel.
J made reservations -- first at Red Lantern the rooftop bar for pre-dinner drinks -- and then a bloody steak with a good bottle of red wine at the ground-floor restaurant.
We'd then stroll very slowly along the Singapore River taking in not just the view but also each other's proximity and presence, after dinner.
The next morning, we were to dip in the rooftop pool before a slow, unhurried champagne-seafood brunch.
And then, we would retreat back into our room for "separate couple me time", a term I came up with.
J would bury himself into reading whatever fantasy fiction he got his hands on. And me, switching between any crime novel and scrolling IG. All this time, we won't talk. We'd do what we want, but would sit side by side, aware of each other's presence.
As we wrapped up our romantic honeymoon weekend just before we checked out, I placed my forehead against my partner's and repeated what I said to him in 2002.
"I like you a lot, J."
Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people
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