ISpyShanghai

Tang

Here’s something that I used to eat in Korea quite a lot, and have now found in China.

It’s a tube of deliciously sour Orangey, sugary powder which is like a cross between Sherbert, and that tasty stuff they fill Hackysacks with. The packaging has got a load of letters on it, which I’ve always assumed were the names of the essential vitamins and minerals which keep me as toned and lithe as an Olympic swimmer.

On Sunday I went round to Emma’s to watch a DVD and brought a couple of Tang’s to enjoy during the film.

“Do you want me to make that for you?” says she
“Make it?”
“Yes. [Pause]. You know it’s a drink right?”
“Ahhhhh! Of course! Please, perform the action which makes this otherwise useless powder into a drink. What else was I going to do? Eat it?! Why that would probably kill a man!”

I think I got away with it.

[To the tune of yellow submarine]

In the building where I work
There’s a room, that’s full of Danes
And we all went out on Saturday
And got drunk, my name is James.

Hmm, I think that needs a bit of work.

If you call up a bar and reserve a table for 19 people, they get very nervous. I can understand that, 19 is a pretty big number and if you don’t turn up, there’s 19 other people who could possibly be sitting in your seats, drinking 19 people’s worth of beer, thinking about ordering 19 people’s worth and food (forgetting about the food and ending up eating 19 people’s worth of dirty street kebabs at 3am), it’s a bit of a risk. Still though, The Spot on Tongren Lu called me up 3 times to confirm that I really did want a table- perhaps someone there should learn the ancient Chinese art of Chillaxing.

The food was good, the beer was flowing, the table football was rattling, I accused an Australian lady of having sexy interclock with her Dad, basically everyone had a good time.

At some point in the evening I left my workmates, their spouses (hi Sally!) and assorted Danes behind to go to see one of the Stanton Warriors (a popular “disc jockey” combo on the disco circuit) at ‘BabyFace’. I’d been to this club before and absolutely hated it- all available space is reserved for hairdressers who’ve rented out tables for the evening and are playing drinking games with whiskey and green tea. For this reason, you aren’t allowed to stand anywhere except on the dancefloor, waving a glow-stick (I wish I was kidding).

If you want an over-priced drink you have to find a waiter who will then go to the bar for you (talking directly to the barstaff is a hanging offence), oh and they don’t have beer: the world’s most popular alcoholic beverage.

I knew all of this before I went in, but my friends Craig, Liam and Megumi didn’t and so were pretty sick of the place by the time I turned up. Emma didn’t seem to mind either way, but when I realised you weren’t allowed to take photos it was the final straw and we left to go to Pirates- a club for people who actually like clubs, music, drinking and things other than sitting at a table shaking cups of dice (the pointlessly popular drinking game in Shanghai).

Liam then, is my friend from back home. And by ‘back home’ I mean waay back home, we met when we were 11- he had a mullet, I had an afro, they were some wild times. Liam has lived in Hiroshima, Japan (yes, that Hiroshima) for the last 5 years where he has somehow managed to convince the cutest girl in all of Japan that he would make a good boyfriend. I explained patiently and at length to Megumi why my superior body hair and human-sized nose would make me a more natural choice for the role, even being good enough to detail a long list of Liam’s flaws, and provide copies of my bank statements for the last 3 years, but she didn’t seem to want to know.
(Hi Emma, you’re pretty).