"They won't let me in."
"What?"
"They won't let me in because I'm wearin' flip flops."
"But this is the club we want to go to. This it the club. You have to get in."
The sounds of driving bass can be periodically heard as the revolving doors spin in front of the clubs lining Gontibeilu in the Sanlitun bar and night club district of the city. It's late Friday night and the street is filled with a throng of club goers of all types - Westerners like us, but mostly the growing ranks of the nouveau-riche of China. All manner of expensive cars are parked on the sidewalk in front - Ferraris, Porsches, Beemers and the like. Cars that with the import and luxury taxes can cost over a half million dollars. For the less affluent, taxis line the road with drivers outside smoking cigarettes and playing Chinese chess with their shirts pulled up high around their chests exposing their bellies Britney Spears style in what is referred to as the "Beijing Belly." An attempt to cool off in the stifling mid August heat of the city as they wait for fares to stumble out.
"But they won't let me. I need some shoes." I look down to survey the hardware. Like a Terminator looking for a match, I size up the many pairs in front of me worn among our large but quickly fading group. "Dude. Lemme borrow your shoes."
"Huh?"
"Let me borrow your shoes for the rest of the night. You said you were tired and were about to leave anyway."
"But you don't have any socks. That's just gross, man."
"Just gimme your shoes, dude."
"These are brand new. I just picked them up in HK. Man... I better fucking have them on my desk first thing Monday morning."
"Enjoy your flip flops. They open beer bottles," as I kick them off while Jason unwillingly shucks off the expensive Italian leather and slides them toward me.
"Whatever. Have fun."
***
11:30someting AM. Saturday.
Total darkness. Darkness owed to the incredibly thick and dusty Chinese curtains hanging over the windows. It's freezing cold and the air conditioner belts out both Arctic temperatures and white noise making it somehow remind me of the time I stayed at my ex-mother in law's place in Santa Barbara in a similar room I dubbed, "The Mausoleum." Scary. If Death had a spare bedroom, this would be it.
How the did I get home?
I check my email and the news with the laptop that sits next to my bed as I struggle to make sense of the morning. No one online either. Too late to chat with friends back home in California. They are now off to their own Friday night adventures.
I throw the sheets off, crawl out of bed, barely remembering I have to at least throw on pants as I have a teenage daughter likely waiting outside the room. I open the door and step into the blinding mid-day light of the small living room adorned with chintzy Chinese furniture. Nothing says class like a patterned shiny gold colored couch. This was our first apartment in the 'Jing and we stayed there for two months. Dormitory-like housing for all the newcomers at my school and new job in what is known as the Class of 2006. Ian and Lori live below us. Cameron and Kylie across the hall. Mike above us, then some other people higher up who I don't know their names just yet. David and Lea-something or other is it? Maybe. I don't remember.
I shuffle into the main living area and seemingly out of nowhere, "I don't want to know!" yells my daughter, "I don't want to know!" as she gestures wildly with her right hand pointing toward my bedroom."
"Huh?"
"Whoever is in there, I don't want to know."
"What are you talking about?" as I make my way to the kitchen in robotic fashion in my quest for caffiene.
"The shoes man! The shoes! All I know is I was NOT walking in that room. I was not even going to knock on that door. Whose shoes are those? Those look like GUY shoes!"
"Wha..." Completely confused, then turning to spot the shoes I had kicked off my feet in the hallway in front of my bedroom door at some point in the middle of the night "Oh. No. It's not like that. You see, there was this club. My friend Jason. They wouldn't let me in. He was done for the night. I had to borrow his shoes."
"Who is IN there?"
"Nobody. I swear to god." Check if you want."
"No way! Are you crazy?"
"No Arielle, I swear. I just borrowed some shoes to get into a club. I have to bring them back on Monday. Look. Do you see my flip flops anywhere. Jason has them."
"Jesus, Tom."
***
"Morning, everyone," as I walk into the office shared between my friend Jason and his co-worker, Sinead. "Hey Jason. Here are your shoes from the other night. Thanks a lot. That was awesome."
"I don't even want to know. I don't even want to know," chants the office mate as she covers her ears, almost rocking back and forth.
"What?"
***
