This was my first months holiday and the majority of the teachers decided to go to Beijing, me included. It was really nice to be travelling with friends. We were also going to be meeting up with a friend who had been teaching at our school but moved to Beijing and started teaching at a university there.
Whilst there, we were to sample many of the wonderful delights of Beijing, the Forbidden Palace, the Sun Dome Plaza (nice starbucks), Beijing Zoo (poor elephants), Beijing Aquarium, an American styled diner (fantastic all day breakfasts) and the Bus Bar.
It was a bus. It was a bar. I really really really hated the darn place. It was embodied with the worst of laowai could offer. The most obnoxious weird off their faces foreigners I've ever had the displeasure of sitting in the same room with.
It was our friends idea to go here, after which we'd go to another club where he knew the owner.
The second I walked up the stairs the horror began. I pushed past a few guys and the bar, had a look round the place. It wasn't very wide, just enough to have a few tables and such. I saw various cultures and peoples in there. There was a Chinese guy behind the bar who was very very generous with the drink. There were some Americans, some bald headed guys, very toned and ripped lets say. They weren't European as far as I could tell, but that was the best I could manage, somewhere around that part of the world they came from. There were also a few Canadians, as I was later informed.
There was the dance floor to our right next to the bar on which the other side the toilets were. A few people were getting down as it were.
I wasn't interested in dancing so walked to the left following everyone else I came with. A Canadian guy was holding onto a very drunk Chinese girl by the shoulders and he stood her up by the wall and said "You stay there" very firmly. As I walked past he said to me "Don't you go near her". "Hmm..." I thought, I just kept quiet and kept my head down and proceeded to my seat.
Which turned out quite a clever thing to do
This had left me feeling pretty nervous, I'm not a tough guy, I fold quite easily. So I sat, drinking my beer, wondering if I could even muster up the nerve to cross back through the throng, across the dance floor to the toilet Especially after my little run in with the Canadian bloke.
During these thoughts our mate plumed up and said in a low voice, "Be careful of that guy. He's the kick boxing champion of Canada. I didn't want to say anything, but stay well out of his way. He beat up a couple of guys pretty bad once. I think he put them into hospital" (I wish I could remember the whole conversation better than I can now. It was long and horrible and didn't paint a nice picture)
Great. My tension level rose a little bit. What else I thought. My answer came soon enough though.
One of the bald guys had seen me get a talking to by him and came over. As I was sat down, he reached down and put his left hand firmly on my right shoulder and spoke something into my left ear. All of which was in a foreign language. He thought I was from his country.
I just looked at him blankly and shrugged my shoulders. It was after that, he looked at me said something more and realised I wasn't one of his flock and slowly moved away.
I sat there, for a moment and wondered why this stuff usually happens to seek me out. It happens quite a lot. As I didn't know exactly what he said my mind raced around and came up with a dozen or so horrible solutions.
I wasn't happy. Within as many minutes I'd been bothered by two unsavoury blokes.
So I buried my face into the throng of my friends. I'd noted that I was now getting a few stares from other people, probably because of my brush in with those two.
As time drew on I had had a few more beers, my bladder was getting kind of tight and uncomfortable. There was no way in hell I was going to get up, walk back past the bald guys, Canadian kick boxing champion/jerk/nutter/violent person and try to use the loo. I've gotta hold this and I don't know when we're going to be leaving here either.
All I wanted to do was to return to the hostel and go to bed.
However, to cut it all short the evening panned out and I survived, nothing more came of it. I managed to hold it all in (you know what) until we got to the next club, which was a lot nicer with a decent bunch of people. So much happier. I even felt happy enough to strut my funky stuff on the dance floor.
I was very pleased to see the back of the Bus Bar. But Before we were due to leave Beijing, we'd have one more visit there. Much to my protest and the others "get stuffed moby."
Fabby, although it was completely different to the last time and yet still horribly horrible...
Whilst there, we were to sample many of the wonderful delights of Beijing, the Forbidden Palace, the Sun Dome Plaza (nice starbucks), Beijing Zoo (poor elephants), Beijing Aquarium, an American styled diner (fantastic all day breakfasts) and the Bus Bar.
It was a bus. It was a bar. I really really really hated the darn place. It was embodied with the worst of laowai could offer. The most obnoxious weird off their faces foreigners I've ever had the displeasure of sitting in the same room with.
It was our friends idea to go here, after which we'd go to another club where he knew the owner.
The second I walked up the stairs the horror began. I pushed past a few guys and the bar, had a look round the place. It wasn't very wide, just enough to have a few tables and such. I saw various cultures and peoples in there. There was a Chinese guy behind the bar who was very very generous with the drink. There were some Americans, some bald headed guys, very toned and ripped lets say. They weren't European as far as I could tell, but that was the best I could manage, somewhere around that part of the world they came from. There were also a few Canadians, as I was later informed.
There was the dance floor to our right next to the bar on which the other side the toilets were. A few people were getting down as it were.
I wasn't interested in dancing so walked to the left following everyone else I came with. A Canadian guy was holding onto a very drunk Chinese girl by the shoulders and he stood her up by the wall and said "You stay there" very firmly. As I walked past he said to me "Don't you go near her". "Hmm..." I thought, I just kept quiet and kept my head down and proceeded to my seat.
Which turned out quite a clever thing to do
This had left me feeling pretty nervous, I'm not a tough guy, I fold quite easily. So I sat, drinking my beer, wondering if I could even muster up the nerve to cross back through the throng, across the dance floor to the toilet Especially after my little run in with the Canadian bloke.
During these thoughts our mate plumed up and said in a low voice, "Be careful of that guy. He's the kick boxing champion of Canada. I didn't want to say anything, but stay well out of his way. He beat up a couple of guys pretty bad once. I think he put them into hospital" (I wish I could remember the whole conversation better than I can now. It was long and horrible and didn't paint a nice picture)
Great. My tension level rose a little bit. What else I thought. My answer came soon enough though.
One of the bald guys had seen me get a talking to by him and came over. As I was sat down, he reached down and put his left hand firmly on my right shoulder and spoke something into my left ear. All of which was in a foreign language. He thought I was from his country.
I just looked at him blankly and shrugged my shoulders. It was after that, he looked at me said something more and realised I wasn't one of his flock and slowly moved away.
I sat there, for a moment and wondered why this stuff usually happens to seek me out. It happens quite a lot. As I didn't know exactly what he said my mind raced around and came up with a dozen or so horrible solutions.
I wasn't happy. Within as many minutes I'd been bothered by two unsavoury blokes.
So I buried my face into the throng of my friends. I'd noted that I was now getting a few stares from other people, probably because of my brush in with those two.
As time drew on I had had a few more beers, my bladder was getting kind of tight and uncomfortable. There was no way in hell I was going to get up, walk back past the bald guys, Canadian kick boxing champion/jerk/nutter/violent person and try to use the loo. I've gotta hold this and I don't know when we're going to be leaving here either.
All I wanted to do was to return to the hostel and go to bed.
However, to cut it all short the evening panned out and I survived, nothing more came of it. I managed to hold it all in (you know what) until we got to the next club, which was a lot nicer with a decent bunch of people. So much happier. I even felt happy enough to strut my funky stuff on the dance floor.
I was very pleased to see the back of the Bus Bar. But Before we were due to leave Beijing, we'd have one more visit there. Much to my protest and the others "get stuffed moby."
Fabby, although it was completely different to the last time and yet still horribly horrible...
