December 12th: Zhangshang & the other Americans

Day 86

Woke, got some lunch which was underwhelming. Erin and I rode out to go shopping, stopping first at a stationery store where she obtained a "no spitting" sign. We need to post these all over town.

My bladder necessitated a stop at Ming Tien. Since I didn't want to be "that guy" who uses the WC, I wanted to get a carrot juice and Erin got an ice sand. But then, she upped the ante and got toast. So I got french fries. She accidentally ordered a waffle, too. We lulled in our seats with full stomachs.

"How did this happen?" she moaned.

"I was just going to get a carrot juice, then you had to get toast."

"Well, toast." she said. Apparently it's its own explanation.

We then went to the outdoor market and were brutally harangued by shoe pushers. One guy had Erin by the arm at one point, not letting her leave while making the price plummet on a pair of boots she expressed no interest in. Another guy led me back to his shop where he tried to make me try on a pair of sneakers that were too small. Even after I waved him off, he grabbed at my laces with eager claws. I had to hotstep and make a run for it.

I bought a cute winter cap for Mia, and we inadvertently picked up a young pigtailed translator in round spectacles who I dubbed Mona. She followed us through the bazaar asking questions and bidding us to sit. When we entered the bedding place, I gestured to her, addressed the staff: "We have our attorney with us. No hoodwinking. No bamboozling. Watch out."

Erin bought a quilt, but we left its cumbersome bulk at the store to be picked up later. Mona detached herself without neither word nor wave as we left. Perhaps it's her post to aid may gua hren in their search for inexpensive baubles.

We rode to some clothing stores near UBC, and finally ran into two of the other English teachers from America: Lindsay and Elena. We swapped stories, theirs mostly bad stuff, dodgy contracts, creepy men at clubs, etc. Erin and I kept shrugging, confessing our stint had been a charmed one thus far, with the exception of Nigel. I invited them to the club and KTV party tomorrow night and then made haste as the dinner hour chimed and we had to reclaim Erin's bedding before closing.

I rode back with it over my arm while she gathered construction paper. After dinner, I went to play piano again, and my three ladies (Alice, July and Lucy) showed again to practice Yellow Submarine. They each had a pouch of M&M's for me. It touched me. We worked out a call and response part for the last verse and brainstormed students blowing bubbles and such. After four run-throughs, they left and I worked out the words for the new song, which is now called "Bluestar."

Frustrated at the contiuning lack of internet and most of a bottle of wine later, I was pedaling to the club. It was 25 yuen to get in this time. "This better come with a free lapdance," I told the man at the booth. Some singer guy who looked like the Korn Spice member of N-Sync was going to be singing that night. Before him, there was a series of kung fu business. The funniest part was a Chinese Danzig, whose first feat of strength was to swallow a big metal ball, then regurgitate it by making sounds and faces that, in a different setting, would convey an agonizing bowel movement. Next, he shoved a needle through his pec, hung a brick from it and swung in a circle. I laughed my ass off in disbelief and terror, imagining the brick tearing free and clobbering some poor soul fiddling with their mobile.

Alen had me sit with his best friend at a table overlooking the floorshow. Zhang Shang was his name. He and Feng Feng should wed for redundant vowel sound sake. I had a finger of Johnny Walker Red at Zhang Shang's behest, then switched to Carlsberg. A girl sitting with us produced a piece of watermelon and threw a chunk at me because I was laughing at her. Zhang Shang was endlessly amused by my American chatter and profanity. I clapped him on the back good-naturedly and we laughed our way through Ren Da Hua's (Korn Spice) lip sync routine.

I sat with Sisi for a bit, was introduced to her uncle, some cousins, made to toast them and I think she may have slipped me Reeb to do so. Grrrrrr. It was only a thimbleful. I MC'd for a bit, shorter than usual because of the overlong floorshow, then we all went to the boiling pot restaurant. When Angela came to sit with us, Sisi didn't say anything.

Angela put a glass to my lips and I thought it was water, then I smelled that hellish moonshine liquor and pushed it away. "Gah! That is evil! That is Devil Satan! No!" I drew a picture to show "devil satan" and put the picture over her glass. She drank it anyway and later regretted it.

Angela and I taught each other words and phrases. At one point she said something about "pig penis."

"What?"

"Hua shen (pointed at head) of pig."

"Oh. Peanuts? Pig brains are called "pig peanuts"?

She nodded. I then had to explain the intricacies of pronouncing "peanuts" vs. "penis." Very, very different. We laughed. At around 3:30 (Holy Jesus is that really the time?!) I had to take my leave. I had already drunk more than I'd planned, spurred by taunts of "girl" when I wouldn't take a sip of beer with their toast. To this, I showed my chest hair, (since that was more polite and effective than flipping them off) dutifully completed the toast assserting both male prowess and stupidity (are the two even separate terms?) in one action.

I showed Angela what time it was and she remarked, "Oh, it is very night." This tickled me to no end, and I laughed about it the whole ride home.