[Faidenk]

CHAPTER 2

6pm found me at the entrance of MacDonald’s nearest to her store; there were several Golden Arcs along People’s Square. It seemed like the longest 30 minutes. This was the busiest time of the day, the human traffic along this pedestrian only kilometer long shopping street swelled even further by the onset of National Day holidays. I gave up looking out for her, it’s just an impossible task.

She was already right upon me before I saw her. She slipped her hand round my arm matter-of-factly and said let’s go. I had thought of bringing her to one of those posh Western restaurants around this part of Shanghai but a previous experience changed my mind. A first date I had in Beijing with a nubile aspiring TV actress turned out to be such a dead starfish in bed even after an whole hour of tongue lashing, actually beg me to buy her a RMB3 bowl of noodles half an hour after leaving a fancy restaurant. Turned out she never had Western before and preferred a female circumcision, but sat there looking at me eat saying she was not hungry. Judging from her performance later, she probably had the procedure done, by a senile iman with a rusty penknife.

Back to People’s Square, I asked her what she like to eat, explaining while we walked towards the train station, that I have been in China long enough to know of China’s diversity, that it’s impossible to know what people from each province’s preference are. Muslim don’t eat pork, the Hunanese, Szechuanese prefer theirs fiery hot, the Cantonese cuisine’s little more refined, the Northern preferred wheat noodles, buns, dumplings of various fillings to rice, which is the staple in the South, and so on, yada yada…. It’s absolutely shameless sometimes what I do to make an impression, if only she didn’t deflate me ‘You don’t have to show off, you know. Let me bring you to my favorite, we’ll walk to build up an appetite’. This girl is getting on my nerves, which is not a bad thing, since it will be all the more sweeter when she begs to be allowed to come. Muahahaha!

Shanghai at this time of the year is perfect for walking. The humidity is low so you hardly break out in sweat; the temperature is a comfortable 18° so all you need is a light jacket for that occasional gust of wind. I walked daily after work unless I have ‘diversions’. Come weekend, I’d take a bus, any bus, drop off at random and walk my way back. It’s a great way to really see and know a place, and never have I ever felt threatened at any time, even after midnight. I have talked to countless people on the streets, people who were eager to share stories of their Red Guards days to how they tamed their wives; but we all know Shanghainese men are all pussies what receive daily allowances from their ‘subservient’ wives. I have also tasted fares from countless eateries: Mongolian, Xinjiang are the more exotic; dog, grilled, braised, sausaged, kebabed; horse sashimi, and many other unidentified dishes I don’t want to remember. Invariably I discovered many spas where one is served more than relief from tired legs. I will never get tired of walking in China.

I am a self-confessed aficionado of foot massage. It’s my second favorite pastime. I’ve paid RMB5 for an hour and I’ve paid 35; I’ve been massaged by imps not old enough to cook the family’s dinner and vision-challenged men who can wring your foot off your leg easily as snap a chicken’s head. And tell you what, they’re all great, for the conversations, for the 2 hours, seldom do I go for less, of relaxation. My feet have been submerged in black goo, brine, mud, minerals and other unidentifiable stuff of dubious benefits. My nails too, have been softened and sliced off precariously by tools resembling wood chisels sharp enough for surgeons, more times than I can remember. Although I’ve never been nicked, I still cringed every time they do it. I think I moaned more times during a back massage than on bed, and it is a great ice-breaker to eventually come to that; nothing works better than lascivious humor.

There are, too, the famous barbershops of China, devoid of shampoos, scissors or combs. One place I’ll never forget, the girl said to me, ‘Show me your little brother and I’ll do anything you want me to do with it. For an extra RMB30, I’ll do a friend as well’. Too bad I was alone, so I paid her the extra 30 and did it twice. One odd thing I should mention: Are Chinese condoms a little small, girth-wise? I’m not extra ‘big’ or anything, but on occasions I find it difficult to roll down, so much so it needs to be pinched to continue. There are, I swear, pinch scars down my length from those encounters. One time there was this girl whose lack of carnal knowledge extends to even the application. She pulled the still flat rubber wide, like you’re trying to pull a rubber band to loosen it, then pulled it over the crown to the neck, then let go with a loud snap, then rolled down. Ouch! It still brings tears to me eyes. Of course this is an isolated incidence and I must, to be fair, not tarnish all with the same brush. Most encounters I would rate good, some I would even rate great, adapt at giving as good as they received, wild, unbridled, passionate. So there.