In larger cities such as
Shanghai and Beijing, nightclubs and discos flourish. Wuhan is not a small city
per se but here, nighttime entertainment consists of KTV. Daytime entertainment
too, for that matter. I’ve explained the genesis and mechanics in the entry
KTV, Then and Now posted February of last year. With Ms. C. and her friends was
the first time I experienced KTV with adults instead of college kids. It was
not as innocent an activity.
While still at the dinner
table, and not too well focused by virtue of alcohol consumption, all members
of the dinner party agreed that prolonging the evening would not be a good
idea. It was already 8PM. People had jobs to go to the next morning and Ms. C.’s
son, who had been with us all day, had to go to school. Our party included
another woman whose daughter, only 9 years old, also had school the next day.
I was secretly relieved that
the day was coming to an end. I have no idea how much was spent on the two extravagant
meals, the rented car, and the liquor that flowed so freely. I imagined it was
a substantial sum, maybe even into the thousands range. That made me
uncomfortable, especially knowing that the entire outing had been designed and
planned to impress me. Being underdressed for the occasion didn’t help, although
no one said anything about my attire and everyone accepted me just fine.
The whole day was too
rich for my blood, even though I spent no money whatsoever. I prefer quiet, low
key pursuits and one on one, or at least small group activities. That is why I
felt I was in over my head. I was ready to get back to my quiet little house
and read a book or watch a movie.
However, after purging
herself of most of the alcohol and all of the food in her system, Ms. C. was
open to the suggestion of finishing the night out at KTV. Suddenly, so were most
of the others in our party. It seems they reversed their position as soon as
Ms. C. did. My vote didn’t count. I was the honored guest. I was to go along
with everything. And so it came to be that our cars caravanned to the local
KTV.
I still couldn’t tell you
where ‘local’ was. We started at the school and went to Hanyang, a place I am
very familiar with. Somehow Ms. C. held the opinion that, even after 2 years of
living in Wuhan I still wasn’t getting out much and had no idea where anything
was at. I didn’t correct her impression. That would have been rude. From
Hanyang we traveled out to the countryside. That was when I declared myself
truly lost.
The point of this entry
was finishing the night at KTV, not whether I had my bearings. Which, in fact I
did, having only slowly consumed two glasses of wine with lunch and one small
glass of bai jiu at dinner. Everyone else was pretty much toasted, except for
the Audi driver and the kids. This merry band stumbled into the extra fancy KTV
lounge.
That is where things took
an uncomfortable turn. There was some groping and passionate kissing going on. I
was not a part of it and neither were the kids. We were just witnesses. I can’t
imagine their level of comfort or even if they were uncomfortable witnessing
adult behaviors such as drinking to excess and scenes with sexual overtones.
It really wasn’t a sleazy
scene going on in our KTV room. Just occasionally a male hand found a female breast
and once, Ms. C. and her male friend kissed passionately. Everyone kept all
their clothes on. By American standards, the goings-on in our room were tame.
We all took turns
singing, we danced, drank some more – beer, this time, and we had a chaperone
or two. One of the KTV employees, dressed in a ‘naughty schoolgirl’ uniform –
short plaid skirt, white blouse, knee socks and patent leather shoes,
functioned as DJ. Another employee of the establishment, in orange pants and a
tee-shirt, and carrying a walkie-talkie radio joined us when duty didn’t call
her away. She was also kissed and groped by the other man in our party.
I was decidedly out of my
element. Not only do I prefer less profligate doings but I am, and have always
been uncomfortable in group adult situations. Not that I’m a prude or that I’m
unknowing about what goes on in the adult world. I would just rather not be a
witness to it. And, if I am to partake of adult behavior I’d just as soon there
were no one else in the room with me and my partner, especially not children
under the age of fourteen.
This was an interesting
glimpse into the world of China’s nouveau riche. There seemed to be a manic
fervor to the whole day, as though by sheer force of will and with enough money
spent a good time could be had. The food, the drinking, the activities and the
physical intimacy, what there was of it almost seemed contrived. Maybe that was
why I didn’t really relax or feel like myself during the whole day.
I did not get ignored in
favor of physical intimacy at KTV. I joined in on the toasts, personal and
group. I was invited repeatedly to sing, even though I sang in English and
everyone else sang songs in Chinese. I was invited to dance and even danced by
myself occasionally.
The dancing was another
sore point for me. Remember when I told you Chinese music seems atonal and arrhythmic?
The Chinese are used to that sort of arrhythmia and their dancing reflects it. I,
having always been tall, do not take kindly to being led while dancing. The men
kept trying to lead me out of time to the music that I kept stepping in time
to. It took a while to allow them to lead me in their syncopated choreography. That
was two strikes against my dancing efforts. Again, I did not get ignored, I
just didn’t fare well in this portion of the day’s activities.
Thankfully they ended
soon enough. I stopped looking at the clock when we went into our KTV room and
didn’t look at it again until we were in the car, on the way home at a little
after 11PM. Seeing as our dinner at the converted greenhouse finished a little
after 8PM, I concluded we spent nearly 3 hours in our KTV booth.
I felt bad for the kids
who were along with us on the whole outing. Not only must they have been
confounded at the complex undertones of the day but they must have been
exhausted from participating it all. And they had school the next day.
My suspicion about the
car and driver being rented for the day was finally confirmed at the end of the
night, when we dropped Ms. C and her son off first. A few hugs and a sincere
testimonial on my part to the good time we had, and she made her way unsteadily
to her apartment, her son propping her up. Her male friend and I got back in the
car and the driver dropped me off next. I’m not sure if I committed another
social faux pas by not getting in the back seat with him once there was room
available but I don’t think it mattered seeing as he was either drunk or very
tired. He promptly fell asleep. The driver and I rode along in silence.
The next words I spoke were
to give instructions on where to drop me off. I elected to walk along The
Street and across campus, rather than to trouble him into driving me right to
my door. Ms. C.’s friend woke up long enough to wish me goodnight and shake my
hand, and then he crawled back into the car and fell asleep. The driver opened the
trunk, gave me a case of what I thought was tea but turned out to be lotus soup
and wished me good night.
By the time I got to my
apartment I had such a terrible headache I could barely turn my head. Without
turning on any lights I made my way through the house, shedding clothing and
closing drapes. Still in the dark, I took 3 Tylenol, washed my face and went to
bed. As I was falling asleep I reflected on the day’s events. Missing from my
homecoming was the warm glow of a day spent in convivial company, as is usual
when I go out with friends. What I felt was a relief that it was all over.
That, and the monster
headache.
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