I'm sure my parents will love to read this.
Last night a bunch of us went out to eat together. In China, you can purchase beer in a store and bring it to a restaurant to drink and it's not a problem at all (and it's a lot cheaper). (Sidenote: You can also drink anywhere in public, as we excessively demonstrated last night: in the park, outside on my campus, and during our taxi cab ride). So not knowing who was getting beer, 4 separate people all brought a 9 pack of beer, each beer being 500 ml. So there's way more than enough to go around. My friend Wille and I are slamming beers left and right. An Ethiopian guy we've befriended convinces me to do three baijiu bombs (biajiu is the Chinese liquor of choice...basically rubbing alcohol.) A little bit after the third baijiu bomb, my stomach tells me that all this crazy Chinese food, beer, and liquor that I've taken in at a rapid pace is not sitting well. I mainline to the bathroom (the women's bathroom actually), and remember that "oh yea, there are no toilets in public bathrooms, only holes in the ground." Shortly after this revelation I puked into the hole but not everything got in the hole. I promptly vacated the area and kept my mouth shut, but I was definitely hungry after that so I ate more. Colin, Willie, Nathan, and Franklin will appreciate this: before I left the restaurant, I saw a guy wearing an Obituary t-shirt. I tried complimenting his shirt but I think he thought I was making fun of him.
We decided (as mentioned before) to go to a park for a while and drink more of our beers.
Then we went out to a club called Club Seven. The bar is packed. While we are slowly making our way to our friends, I notice there is a stage with a stripper pole. You guys probably know me well enough to know what comes next...I immediately jump on the stage and start taking advantage of the pole. Climbing up it and twirling around it...you know, the whole bit. Finally I was tired and stopped only to hear the roar of applause and cheers from my Chinese audience...consisting of mostly men. I consider an encore, but decide drinking more sounds like a better option. We all got up and danced on other stages different points in the night. I danced like there was no tomorrow.
Clubs Seven has go go dancers that dance every half hour or so (that's why the stripper pole was there) and at one point in the night, the bar was cleared and flames shot up from all around the bar top. Behind the flames, a bartender was doing his best impression of Tom Cruise in Cocktail, throwing and spinning bottles this way and that way. Pretty epic.
Sidenote: We've met a number of other foreigners that have been friends with Drake people in the past. Two of them are teachers at one of the schools and the others are just friends of theirs. An Ethiopian named Caleb, two Chinese who go by Johnny and Jake, a Brit named Peter, an Australian named Francis, two Indians named Vivek and Danesh. and a few others. These guys like to party balls to the wall, so I think we'll be hanging out quite a bit in the future.
Anyway, the night before Jake claims he can outdrink me and out chug me to which I replied, "You are full of shit." So shortly after my stripper show, I'm shoved back on the same stage by Jake. There are already people on stage, one with a microphone and I have no idea what's going on at this point. Someone hands me a beer with a straw and...oh, it's a club sponsored drinking contest! The beer was slightly warm and, not wanting to have a replay of my experience at the restaurant, I elect not to put my best effort into the contest.
The contest was won by one of our foreign friends (I can't remember his name). He slammed his beers and turned it upside down each time to prove it.
I thought this after he won:
Foreigners: 1, Chinese: 0
I'm not sure he actually won anything except respect.
At some point in the night, my friend Jason comes up to me and tells me how this fairly good looking Chinese woman came up to him and started hitting on him. He was really excited about it. However, his heart is broken when Jake scouts him out and tells Jason that it was a prostitute.
So finally, I am getting tired and I've already been drunk for a solid 5 hours (I know...weak) so I decide it's time to go home. I get into the taxi cab and tell the driver where I need to go except...he clearly has no idea where my place of residence is. He knows the general direction, though...so he has to stop to ask directions and for some reason, let's me off a block or two away...The gate to my school is closed and the security guard is sleeping, so what do I do? I jump over the fence. Then, when I get to my building the gate is locked because it's after curfew so I have to ring the bell to get someone to come out. A guy comes out and swear to God he tried every key on his key chain before he got the right one (went through at least 10 keys). Anyway, I was finally home.
- Josh
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