One thing that always irritates me in Asia is sometimes just super common things that should be convenient in the States, aren't convenient at all here. Spent an hour walking around trying to find a pack of basic blue pens.
Mamasan Machete:
When I was living in Shanghai, I was pretty out of control. 20 or so years old, living with two buddies in a two story apartment, and no real obligations or worries. I'll say this, I do really like cocaine. I haven't done cocaine since 2014, but that's not because I don't like it, it's because I just have too much fun when I do it, and a buddy of mine had a deviated septum which caused him some issues. I think it truly is the best drug. In China, it is relatively easy to get cocaine, albeit over-priced cocaine. But, when you are just some *******, twenty-something who thinks they are invincible, spending $300 USD for an 8-ball isn't that much of a hindrance. I also had a fraternity brother, Rick Rubes, who was over in China, and he loved cocaine and Lil Wayne, so most of our weekends consisted of doing blow while listening to "This is the Carter."
The two kids I lived with, Big Lip, and the ferret lookin' kid from Haverford, weren't drug averse, but surely were a bit worried at how lawless one could get in a lawless land. One weekend, Rick Rubes and I railed off quite a bit, and ended up at M2, one of those flashy, all you can drink, clubs. We met Big Lip, and some others there. I don't have much recollection from the club other than what Big Lip told me the next day. Showed up, licking my lips a bit, crazy eyed, standing with him at the bar with my drink ticket. Get my drink, immediately drop it on the ground and it shatters, pull out a second drink ticket, get it, drop it once again, and just wander off elsewhere in the club.
Big Lip had this thing where he thought that the hookers in Shanghai actually really loved him and cared what he said. The thing was, Big Lip never actually bar-fined them or paid for hookers (just that one time watching me). If he ever did buy a hooker, he would definitely be the man who kisses hookers on the lips, and then holds them and stares into their eyes after, and says, "you know, you really could do something else for work if you wanted." He and a few others would always go to this hole in the wall hooker bar where you could bar-fine them, but they would just drink and talk to the girls, and tell me the next day, "I think X really likes me." I refused to go, specifically because there were way better spots to go.
But, I somehow ended up getting thrown out of M2, and Rick Rubes was nowhere to be seen, so I got a text from Big Lip telling me to come to the hooker bar. I guess my entrance was theatrical to say the least, after pissing outside with my pants at my ankles right next to the window of the Bar, I kicked open the door to the bar and came in waving $100 kuai in the air, rambling about anal, doggie style, and cumming on people's faces. Hookers are people too, and they enjoy some order in their lives, so this wasn't met with excitement and smiles, but with disgust and scowls.
I don't remember exactly how it happened, but the final straw came after propositioning the Mamasan and tossing my beer bottle against the wall, shattering it. I was so thoroughly tuned up, that Big Lip described the moment the Mamasan pulled out a machete from behind the bar, as one where I wasn't even able to process it. I had my back turned to her at the point she pulled it out, turned around for a second, saw her holding the machete, didn't register, turned back around, and continued trying to engage in conversation with one of the few bar girls. It wasn't until the Mamasan came out from behind the bar, tapped me on the shoulder, and pressed the tip of the blade to my chest, that I realized it was time to go.
I woke up the next day and didn't remember much, but mentioned to Big Lip how I remember the Mamasan pulling a knife on me, to which he responds, "yeah that wasn't a knife man, that was a ****ing machete."
Rick Rubes and I had our troubles during our time in Shanghai, mostly stemming from us getting the **** kicked out of us outside of C's I think it was, by a group of Chinese dudes who were all tatted up. Rubes ended up breaking his hand, and I had a black eye from getting dragged down some stairs and stomped. It turned into one of those situations where it was easier to blame the other, and since we were both hosed, the memory of where the fault lay, was a point of contention.
-Big Body