while Michelle was away...
...we were finally allowed to have fun.
Andy decided that since he was no longer tied down by Michelle's undying work ethic, it would be a good time to check out some local bars.
On 3/24 I recevied the following:
"Commander Lu YIng has ordered everyone to meet us for drinks tonight around 8. Davide has the location. YOu can also
call my cell 13 5555 5555 . Andy"
Note the sporadic capitalization, indicating the stress of the author. He is naturally afraid to divulge the location over an unsecure channel. Michelle can be dangerous.
Deciding to be safe, we all took different modes of transportation to said location. (translation: things were so disorganized, no one could find anyone else, let alone the directions to or name of the bar). Naturally, there were some casualties (some people, having no directions or ability to ask for them in chinese, never found it).
Fortunately, after "communicating" in broken Chinese with the Commander and her subordinate, I arrived safely and was able to begin drinking immediately. Commander Lu Ying didn't show up for about another hour, and then only for 5 minutes. In typical style, after ordering us to meet for drinks, she consumed none before leaving.
The name of the bar was "Casablanca", however in Chinese it's pronounced "ka-shin-bu-lan-ka" with a specific intonation. It's a "western" bar, not in the sense of being "Western", but more like from the "Old West". Everything is made of wood and is somewhat rustic looking. There's even a long-haired Chinese guy with a guitar singing in heavily accented English "Hotel California". He has some bad ass accompaniment from the Chinese guy with long blond highlights and sunglasses in the stereotypical clearly-way-too-bright bar lighting.
But after some congacs and Long Island Ice Teas (chang dao bing cha), it is definitely a cool place. Due to the wooden framing of the building, the bar is primed for drunken graffitti. Rather than resist (impossibly) every drunk guy with a pen, the bar embraces its patrons' "art" and hands out chalk.
And some of us, (ok one of us), decided the bar needed a distinctively physics touch. After witnessing some foreign girl artfully write her name in multiply colored bubble letters, Andy marched straight to the bar, got some chalk, and left some words to live by on the ceiling:
(pictures forthcoming)
If this doesn't inspire drunken Chinese to defy C. N. Yang and study something useful, like string theory, well, I guess there is no hope for China. At least it still makes rice and cheap plastic toys.
Andy decided that since he was no longer tied down by Michelle's undying work ethic, it would be a good time to check out some local bars.
On 3/24 I recevied the following:
"Commander Lu YIng has ordered everyone to meet us for drinks tonight around 8. Davide has the location. YOu can also
call my cell 13 5555 5555 . Andy"
Note the sporadic capitalization, indicating the stress of the author. He is naturally afraid to divulge the location over an unsecure channel. Michelle can be dangerous.
Deciding to be safe, we all took different modes of transportation to said location. (translation: things were so disorganized, no one could find anyone else, let alone the directions to or name of the bar). Naturally, there were some casualties (some people, having no directions or ability to ask for them in chinese, never found it).
Fortunately, after "communicating" in broken Chinese with the Commander and her subordinate, I arrived safely and was able to begin drinking immediately. Commander Lu Ying didn't show up for about another hour, and then only for 5 minutes. In typical style, after ordering us to meet for drinks, she consumed none before leaving.
The name of the bar was "Casablanca", however in Chinese it's pronounced "ka-shin-bu-lan-ka" with a specific intonation. It's a "western" bar, not in the sense of being "Western", but more like from the "Old West". Everything is made of wood and is somewhat rustic looking. There's even a long-haired Chinese guy with a guitar singing in heavily accented English "Hotel California". He has some bad ass accompaniment from the Chinese guy with long blond highlights and sunglasses in the stereotypical clearly-way-too-bright bar lighting.
But after some congacs and Long Island Ice Teas (chang dao bing cha), it is definitely a cool place. Due to the wooden framing of the building, the bar is primed for drunken graffitti. Rather than resist (impossibly) every drunk guy with a pen, the bar embraces its patrons' "art" and hands out chalk.
And some of us, (ok one of us), decided the bar needed a distinctively physics touch. After witnessing some foreign girl artfully write her name in multiply colored bubble letters, Andy marched straight to the bar, got some chalk, and left some words to live by on the ceiling:
(pictures forthcoming)
If this doesn't inspire drunken Chinese to defy C. N. Yang and study something useful, like string theory, well, I guess there is no hope for China. At least it still makes rice and cheap plastic toys.
posted by Michelle at 7:09 a.m.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home