Drake Is Off This Week, But Don’t Worry, We Have One Piss Of A Replacement Story
[Ed's note: Drake's been ill this week, so he apologies for not submitting a column. But one needn't look far around these parts to find stories of expats behaving badly, as you'll soon see.]
By Scott Grow
So no shit, there I was, balls fuckin’ deep, bodies everywhere. (OK, so maybe only one or two bodies – probably alive.) It was 04:30 or 05:00, or whatever time it is when you know you’ve been in Sanlitun well past bedtime, and I was trying to find a cab home. But of course, as is always the case, there were people in front of me that kept snaking every open cab that came by. Having had enough of this, I decided to walk against traffic until I got clear of everyone else and then snake the next one from them.
During the course of my intrepid journey, I encountered a dude, da ping in one hand, cigarette in the other, with his…
No, wait, wait, wait. Lemme start from the beginning.
OK, it’s not the beginning, but a little before all this happened. I started in Wudaokou, where I met this guy, maybe German, really friendly, and he bought me and my buddy a drink and we proceeded to talk first about how much we loved (and/or hated) being in Beijing, and then of course, naturally, sex, then politics, then religion, then sex, then finally how much we loved (and/or hated) being in Beijing. By this time it was only about 22:30 and I got a call from a friend I hadn’t seen in ages who was in Sanlitun and offered to treat me and my friend to alcohol poisoning. The next day being a day off for me in combination with a severely impaired decision-making paradigm led me to the conclusion that this was a good idea, so I agreed, and my buddy and I left the friendly German with a handshake and a promise to see him again.
So we got to Sanlitun at about 23:30 (we stopped at 7-11 for a couple of burgers cause I warned my friend of his impending death by baijiu), and soon after, just as my alter ego, Nostradamus, predicted, we were on our way to being very drunk. I think it was around 01:00 when who showed up but The Friendly German Guy. He joined us at our table and we continued to drink and smoke and invite girls over and, well, you know, the normal shit you do in a club with your friends in Sanlitun.
Eventually we had to leave, bringing us back to the beginning: balls deep, a couple of bodies here and there, unable to catch a cab cause other assholes keep snaking them. So we take off and Friendly German Dude says, “I gotta piss!” So my friend says, “There are trees over there,” to which Friendly German Dude says, “Fuck that, I’m in China, bitches!” I was like, “C’mon man, what the fuck, don’t do that.” But he was havin’ none of it. So, with a da ping [big bottle (of beer)] in one hand and a cigarette in the other, he stands on the curb and starts pissing. Then a cab with people in it comes by and he tries to arch his golden stream onto the cab.
“Holy, shit, dude! Did you see that, I nearly got ’em!” Then another cab, but having seen the diabolical scheme underway, this driver got into the far lane to avoid Friendly German Guy’s assault. But Friendly German Guy, with a steel resolve, was determined to piss onto a moving target. So he hunched down and slight back to add arch to his indirect fire, and half-walking, half-trotting, advanced on his prey. But he missed again. Then another cab, but since he was in the middle of the fucking road at this point, he figured all he had to do was turn and face traffic and the motherfucker would just drive right into his piss.
Meanwhile, I’m standing there trying in vain to convince Friendly German Guy to get out of the fucking road, put his dick away, and go home and sleep it off. He either ignored me or was way too focused on the mission at hand. The car coming directly at him swerved and sped up to avoid being urinated on just as Friendly German Guy went dry. I swear, I’ve not seen such disappointment on anyone but a child whose summer ice cream has just fallen to the ground. Walking back to the curb, not even bothering to holster his sidearm, he flicked his cigarette, took a swig off his da ping, threw it away and said, “Fuck it. Who wants a jianbing?”
I chuckled at the asshole and said, “You’re buying, motherfucker.”
Well it was fun, and it was interesting, and in retrospect quite funny. But really! This isn’t the first time I’ve seen such behavior. Maybe it would be in our best interests to tone it down a bit, yeah? Maybe put a little effort into not making total asses of ourselves? What do ya think?
Scott is a certified killer living in Beijing, slowly killing himself with alcohol. He can be found on Weibo or reached at email@example.com.