okay, here’s my complaint. if you run a hostel, it’s pretty obvious that your clientele are going to be unfamiliar with your city at best, right? especially if you’re a hostel in china. so given the opportunity to provide directions to your customers, do you think you might want to come up with something a LITTLE better than, “take bus #361. go to People’s Square stop, turn around and walk 5 minutes.” turn around? are you serious? can i really not even get a direction? it did take 2 hours or so to follow those directions, and that was only with the help of spencer, another in the long line of helpful chinese friends. sheesh.
once i actually got to the hostel (which did turn out to be awesome in the end), i met a few fellows and we decided to go out. unbelievably, it did not take much discussion to reach this decision. what else does one do in shanghai?
so we end up at a spot where there’s a little drinking and a lot of dancing. we’re all standing outside on the patio, comfortable in our maleness and our non-dancing status. i head in to get another beer and i’m stopped right inside the door by a chinese girl. an extraordinarily hot chinese girl. with a halter top. that we’ve all been talking about for the last half hour. oh, yeah.
she asks, “do you dance?” we can all agree there’s only one correct answer to that question in that situation. “yes, yes, and yes.” so my trip to the bar gets aborted and the grind commences. then her friend joins us. suddenly she rips a large sticker, previously unnoticed, off her jeans and slaps it on my chest. and just like that, i’m “#3.” a few minutes later, her friend agrees and annoits me “#4,” as well. other people would wonder what was going on. i had other things to think about.
the mystery resolved itself when an older fellow, presumably an employee of the establishment, unceremonially ripped my stickers off and gave them back to the girls. he ordered them to the stage and it became clear they were contestants in a dance contest. clearly i was not about to take their place, though the sentiment was sweet.
fast-forward a few hours and we’re all ready to go but we’re hungry (and some of us are quite drunk, though not me - seriously). my new chinese girlfriend suggests we hit up a neighborhood restaraunt she knows. done and done. now at this point, there is one of us, a danish gentleman, who is quite a bit more intoxicated than anyone else in the metropolitan area. he starts to protest this idea but ends up going along with it.
now at this point, the story is just going to fall apart. here’s the ending: we finish eating, the girls get in a cab to their place and we get one for the hostel. the danish guy then explains how we were just scammed. in his mind, the “restaraunt” we just ate at was really just a front. never mind that the meals cost a grand total of about $13, it had to be a scam because the chinese girls suggested it. see, the story sucks because it’s not really funny - but it was. it was hilarious. and you’re going to have to take my word for it.
i’ll content myself with the idea that if i’d actually written this when it happened instead of two weeks later, i could have translated the humor. next time.