A version from article

The “THE NIGHT OF THE MONEY-BURSTING BRATS”

“The BT dancing bar whose entrance ticket of small floor is 50,000dong, don’t go there on Mondays because those days are for mostly gays. To find pretty girls? Come into N, TL bars at Bac Hai hostel, you can find them easily. To attract girls? Drink “wine” instead of beer or you can on see them dancing. Thin- a clever guy in Binh Thanh district choked with laughter to whisper at my friend’s ear.
It’s staggering, the bright but pale lights were in turn turned on along the street. Hurriedly putting on the old and wrinkled-up raincoat, we drove to Saigon from Thu Duc in the sharp cold of the pouring rain. The puddles on Ha noi highway which sometimes splashed about on our faces whenever there’s a lorry passed by rapidly. The music in the bars which were soundproofed, still noisily resounded outside by the volume “pressed”.
We stopped by a small bar which was near Le Thi Rieng park. Quickly glanced around the serial of new “xế- motorbikes” with the number of over forty, orderly put at the garage, we thought the brats had arrived lot.
A thirty-year old man with hard and strong build, tiny eyes, the hairstyle was as hard as nail, in elegant clothes together with necktie was standing as picket, and welcomed us in a polite way.
The glass door were heavily opened, the super-basses music made us feel as if we would be rebounded outside. The heavy chest, hard breathe, tightly tied up my heart that made my whole body seem to burst. The dancing girls gaudily made up with hot and young body, gesticulating on the dancing floor, crazily swung. All of them were wearing black and tight attires which were extremely short and obviously showed their bodies under the colored lights.
Two sides of the in-and-out aisle, standing the cold, blood-shot bodyguards, folding their arms, unmovingly as the statues, only their eye sights were soulful , menacingly stared at supervised everyone who were coming in and out, to carefully consider whether or not we were “spies”. I slightly trembled when my friend whispered “ those guys are typical black-marketers, be careful to take photos”
The young man show the table which was opposite to the dancing floor, meanwhile we were not timely to sit down on the rolling and lanky chair, the waitress showed us a list of wine. She focused the tiny torch at it, continuously urged “what kind of wine do you drink?” I dazzled my eyes when I just slightly glanced ar the extremely high price of the foreign bottles such as: Hennessy, XO, Remmy , and so on. The cheapest one was also over one million VND. The beverage, enticement price had been gazumped from 100% to 200%, but that was still not as “shock” as at Vocalnno bar, according to Thin. Thin said “you will be impoverished if you enter there. A plate of fruit cost 500,000dong, a bottle of Chivas cost 1.7m VND, tip for the waiter 100,000dong, call four more cans of Coca to mix with wine which cost 200,000dong. Totally cost 2.5m dong for a night out.”
Coming to the night club at the first time, we were quite puzzled like two bumpkins. Our total money was about some hundred thousands dong. My friend quickly asked “ Is there any other kind of beverage?”. Intentionally hooked us in some kinds of wine but unsuccessfully, the waiter with a dicty face standing next to the waitress, reluctantly gave us another list. We ordered a cup of lemon rum, salagane soft water, he told us “ order more of a plate of fruit or arid beef, ok?”. We shook our head, perhaps he recognized us too “poor”, he scornfully looked at us then quickly threaded.
Looking around, outwardly the group of male and female employees nodding their heads repeatedly out of the music, we were the earliest. Sitting not enough half an hour, my chest seemed to be broken up because of the mix music which swirled into my heart and brain. The snatched music, the sharp sound which made the group of employees sometimes ignite, go crazily, jump up as if go into trance. Nearly nine pm, five little brats of about fourteen or fifteen, hissing cigars, coming in succession. They called more than ten cans of Heiniken and a plate of arid beef to rubble and hiss cigars. The brat next to me, looked clever at playing and eating, was succesionally gulping glasses of beer, “tipsy” he leaned his back to the chair and blinked his eyelash with a pretty dancing girl who has the know-to-smile eyes. She unseemly encircled his shoulders and clinked their glasses, shouted to drink up “a hundred percent”, the two of them turned to the dancing floor to gesticulate. Tired from dancing, the brat anxiously gnawed the piece of arid beef. I turned to him and asked “Are you student?” “Yes” he strangely scowled at