Personal Break

When Judy was in town we used to anticipate the release of the new issue of "that's Shanghai" because we could flip to the Personals section and read some of the ads that the local Chinese would write. Here are some current samples that I thought were fun to read, courtesy of the "that's Shanghai" website:

La Dolce Vita
This is a Chinese lady of integrity, with decent job & good figure...She may not appear like kind of hot gal & sex object, but she's by no means boring/ugly. Instead, she's elegant, caring, sweet, affectionate.. likes music, movie, travelling, Saint-Emilion, the authentic lovely creative pasta, and everything beautiful..You don't have to be her future BF, common friend is also very OK, but no one-nite-stand man pls! Seriously, if you're a decent man,physically & mentally, and willing to practice monogamy, meet up & share the Sweet Life together. Start from.

This special letter only for my Mr.right
Dearest Mr.right, I have been looking for you for 26 spring since my mom brought me to this colourful world.......No matter raining or sunshine I have beeing never ever give up to find you, there is a strong power leading me. Dearest Mr.right, I wanna say to you that i am getting a painful in my heart without you because you are a part of my whole life. even if we havent meet each other i am still strong about you. and i guess you must have a good-looking, smart, mature, Romantic and having a good sense of humour. I wish God could help us to arrang a date on some nice place to start our new life! I will always being here for you! with best wishes and warm regards your angle

This is a little scary, isn't it?

Do u believe fate?
Astrology says that I am to marry a man with different background. And, we are to make friends with different kinds of people. That's why I publish my ad here -- maybe a foreign guy with similar hobbies would be my destinied choice? I love reading -- novels, early childhood education, the Bible and books on the way how Jews made business. I like cultures and like to study the reason behind the culture. And I love travelling to places with beautiful scenery, especially to places where the people there are so kind and nice. The man that I want should be well-educated and self-disciplined. And of course, the sense of humor is necessary cause I also love fun.

Reading books on how the Jews made business? Damn, all kinds of shit going on here in China

Natural Stroke

My dad bought some golf clubs last weekend that he was going to use as gifts during one of his business trips. Before he left for Southeast Asia, he told me that one of the drivers had some scratches on the shaft, and wanted me to return to Xiang Yang Market to exchange the club.

So yesterday, I set out to complete this task assigned to me. It was a really hot and muggy day, and I didn't want to carry my backpack with me, so I left Tina's apartment with nothing but the clothes I was wearing, my sunglasses, and a really long golf club in my hand.

Walking through the streets of Shanghai with a golf club is quite an interesting experience, one that was totally unexpected as I sauntered down YongJia Road. I felt a strange sense of empowerment as I walked by curious onlookers, perhaps because they themselves seemed threatened by the sight of a somewhat tall and chubby dude in shades barreling towards them with a golf club in his right hand. Since I'm normally as threatening as Strawberry Shortcake rolling around in Jell-O, I was pleased with the thought of myself as a danger, even though I knew that I would never do anything to hurt...

But wait, who do I see walking up towards me but the fine management team of "that's Shanghai" magazine! Now, I'm not very familiar with the general manager, but I know the chief editor fairly well, and coincidentally enough he was the one I had e-mailed just minutes prior to my leaving the apartment about the once vacant (now-filled) editorial position for which I had interviewed and about which I was never properly updated. On a completely unrelated note, he has the most flaccid handshake of any person with an alleged nut-sack that I have ever encountered.

My grip on the club tightened. I closed my eyes and had visions of myself whirling around and giving him a good whack to the side of his head with the 10.5 degree driver, then turning around and ramming the end of the shaft into his back while yelling "FORE" into the Shanghai sky. This being my fantasy, there would of course be animated digits that popped up above his head (100 pts! 200 pts!) as if I were in a Super Mario Bros. game.

Alas, I had moved on too quickly, and by the time I had opened my eyes the cavalry had passed. I loosened my grip on the club. I was a civilized person, after all, and aside from mounting the toilet at home and riding it as if it were a crazed bull, I don't usually consider myself a man prone to giving in to such animalistic instincts. Those who run "that's Shanghai" take their jobs very seriously, and at the same time seriously ride the artificial prestige of their positions to garner as much perk-n-pussy as they can possibly get. Still, there are so many (white) men like them running amok in Shanghai, that they couldn't possibly deserve to get their brains bashed in by a bootlegged driver.

Next time, I'll do them justice and use the 3-wood.

The Haze

"So passes Eric's liver, son of Eric's digestive system." - Gandalf the White

After a 5 hour blight of consciousness in an otherwise deep stream of sleep, I finally feel recovered from the weekend that was poised to smite me from this earth. It actually began a week ago, on a Tuesday, after I drank so much scotch at a karaoke bar that I mistook the pitcher of Johnny Walker in front of me as yogurt, so I gleefully had some more. At that point, I didn't even notice that all my friends had left me, and I was alone with one sock off and my keys dangling from my left nipple.

Thursday at Pegasus was much calmer, with the highlight being the MC battle on stage between a Japanese dude and a Chinese guy, who had an interesting habit of inserting "FUCK YOUR MOTHER" (in Chinese, it sounds like "cao ni ma!") into his rhymes. This being Shanghai, and Shanghai being in China, and China being a hotbed of anti-Japanese sentiment, on that night it was as if George Bush himself had walked into my apartment with a huge "Kick Me" sign on his naked ass. No contest.

Friday night was the crown jewel of imbibing. Every week on this day, Mural has an open bar for 100 RMB ($12.50 US). A few of us reserved a table and proceeded to slosh ourselves to complete silliness. While waiting in line, Keith actually got barked out by a fellow drunkard, but it makes sense because he was probably sniffing his own ass. He's Canadian, what can I say.

Anyway, to keep Laurel and Chace's identities a secret to save them from embarrassment, I'll just use "Lauren" for "Laurel" and "Ted Danson" for "Chace."

Eric (to Lauren): Isn't Shanghai great? At this table we have Canadians, Chinese, Californians, Mid-westerners, Southerners, Singaporeans, Canadians, Chinese, Californians...

Lauren: Eric, you're repeating yourself! And why aren't I drunk? I've had as much as you have! I guess I just have a better tolerance than all of you weaklings.

Eric sees Ted Danson lying on one of the plush sofas. He looks whiter than usual.

Eric (to Ted): Hey man, are you OK?

Ted sat up and pointed at Lauren. "Dude, check it out!" Lauren is hunched over and is, how shall I say, "giving back" generously to the Mural floor.

Eric: Wow.

I turned to Ted Danson to say something, but find only that Ted himself has turned around and is just as charitable as Lauren.

So there I was at Mural, sitting between an upchucking Midwesterner and a hurling Southerner. And then, with uncanny timing, Keith returned to the table clasping four more beers. "Who's ready to go!" he barks.

Roiled with over-hang, Saturday night was a birthday party for Rina, Dom, Jen Lau, and Liana, but in typical Shanghai-expat fashion it happens to be the birthday of only of the hosts, Dom. The theme of the party was "Slut and Porn," and so naturally we arrived in a blazing glory of jeans and sweaters. Thankfully, Dom, who was just turning eighteen, was in full porn spirit, and it required the Western vise of decency to keep Keith and I from looking at the fuck-me-boot-clad birthday girl giving lap dances to whoever looked greasy enough. I saw Vincent on the balcony, and after some polite chatter he mentioned that he knows he's too old when he feels guilty and perverted when informed that the girl he has been ogling all night has just turned eighteen.

Chace was nice enough to provide some beers, but after averaging three hours of a sleep the past four nights, all I could do was drink a few before we headed outside to smoke the most exquisitely rolled joint I had ever seen, courtesy of Keith. The next day and night would be filled with golf in 90 degree weather and another outing with a local Shanghainese friend who was in the urge to dance and drink some more, but at that moment, sitting on the balcony with a couple of equally tired dudes, I had found an ephemeral nirvana that was a nice break from the sleepless nights and inevitable liver damage to come.

beyond

i;m beyond drunk right now. i always wanted to see how i would typed slurred
the way that i talk
i guess this is it
wow
my speclling is not so bad
oops
i guess i overestimated myself
kids...dont' drink so much on weekinght
you'll get bad grades
cheers
eric