Official I Hate China Day
It's an I-hate-China. In fact, I am inaugurating today, May 8th, as official Sherry Hates China Day.
This morning I had to take my precious life-force to the Apple hospital. Two days ago, I got slapped with the blue screen of death by my iBook. Nothing has been the same ever since.
The air this morning had the ominous promise of an offensive summer to come. As I stepped out my door, a big, throaty rumble assaults my ear, and out of reflex I cringe in anticipated disgust. I turn to see a middle-aged waterboy hock a really nasty loogie right next to me. Ok, whatever, I thought. It's still a nice day outside, I can handle this. As if someone heard me thinking, a second man, a security guard, walks up to me and expels a white globe of spit from his mouth. I practically tripped over my own nausea.
After a moment of near-hysteria, I stopped by the local dumpling shop to have some xiaolongbao. At smaller foodshops that are cheap and tasty, its often that you'll have to share tables with other patrons. As I scanned the tiny room after ordering my food with the register lady, I realized today was one of those days.
Looking around, I noticed a few dirty old men staring straight at my chest. Great. Not sitting there, there, or there. I chose a couple that looked fairly non-intrusive. They were quietly eating their dumplings, and it looked as if they were half finished.
Due to the lack of space, the tables were small and narrow as well. By the time I sat across from the husband, I was practically staring right up his nosehairs. I dove into my dumplings, savoring the juicy soup and soft, thin skin. Halfway through my second dumpling, the wife's phone rings. She answers, but gets up to go outside to talk. How considerate of her, to get up and walk outside so she won't disturb the other restauranteers. I should have seen what was coming next when the husband's phone rang. It being hate China day, he picks up the phone, and screams out the loudest, "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaai!?!" I have ever heard in my life. Shrinking back in fear, my neck tenses with apprehension of the onslaught to come. Particles of skin fall off my face from the sheer force of his decibal waves. This lasts for 8.5 minutes. I look at my chopsticks and imagine myself stabbing him. Somehow, I fell into a wormhole today and nobody sent me the memo.
After escaping the restaurant, I run off for a meeting across town. On the way, another eight guys hock loogies seemingly AT me, one after another. (Even as I sit here typing this entry, 24 floors up a building on the Bund, I still hear someone hocking one. That's how bad it is.)
I am fairly tolerant most days. But right now I am taking myself to my little cave. I imagine a little coffee shop in the Bay, with the delicious aroma of coffee and freshly baked cookies, surrounded by non-hocking patrons that smile and say, "it'll be O.K." I've clicked and I've clicked but my red ruby slippers aren't working today.
This morning I had to take my precious life-force to the Apple hospital. Two days ago, I got slapped with the blue screen of death by my iBook. Nothing has been the same ever since.
The air this morning had the ominous promise of an offensive summer to come. As I stepped out my door, a big, throaty rumble assaults my ear, and out of reflex I cringe in anticipated disgust. I turn to see a middle-aged waterboy hock a really nasty loogie right next to me. Ok, whatever, I thought. It's still a nice day outside, I can handle this. As if someone heard me thinking, a second man, a security guard, walks up to me and expels a white globe of spit from his mouth. I practically tripped over my own nausea.
After a moment of near-hysteria, I stopped by the local dumpling shop to have some xiaolongbao. At smaller foodshops that are cheap and tasty, its often that you'll have to share tables with other patrons. As I scanned the tiny room after ordering my food with the register lady, I realized today was one of those days.
Looking around, I noticed a few dirty old men staring straight at my chest. Great. Not sitting there, there, or there. I chose a couple that looked fairly non-intrusive. They were quietly eating their dumplings, and it looked as if they were half finished.
Due to the lack of space, the tables were small and narrow as well. By the time I sat across from the husband, I was practically staring right up his nosehairs. I dove into my dumplings, savoring the juicy soup and soft, thin skin. Halfway through my second dumpling, the wife's phone rings. She answers, but gets up to go outside to talk. How considerate of her, to get up and walk outside so she won't disturb the other restauranteers. I should have seen what was coming next when the husband's phone rang. It being hate China day, he picks up the phone, and screams out the loudest, "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaai!?!" I have ever heard in my life. Shrinking back in fear, my neck tenses with apprehension of the onslaught to come. Particles of skin fall off my face from the sheer force of his decibal waves. This lasts for 8.5 minutes. I look at my chopsticks and imagine myself stabbing him. Somehow, I fell into a wormhole today and nobody sent me the memo.
After escaping the restaurant, I run off for a meeting across town. On the way, another eight guys hock loogies seemingly AT me, one after another. (Even as I sit here typing this entry, 24 floors up a building on the Bund, I still hear someone hocking one. That's how bad it is.)
I am fairly tolerant most days. But right now I am taking myself to my little cave. I imagine a little coffee shop in the Bay, with the delicious aroma of coffee and freshly baked cookies, surrounded by non-hocking patrons that smile and say, "it'll be O.K." I've clicked and I've clicked but my red ruby slippers aren't working today.
posted by ShanghaiSherry.com at
5:00 PM
3 Comments:
That's what you get for mingling with the locals in their space. Once your "China glow" wares off you'll realise they are a separate species and best ignored or employed for menial labor.
I really don't think it's about "getting what you deserve". In many ways, I am ranting simply because... I can. As for that "china glow"... it will never wear off cause it's in the blood. Lastly, whether you live in Shanghai or not, it's unfortunate that you believe it best that they are "ignored or employed for menial labor", and that your near-sighted vision does not allow you to realize that, despite their rude table manners and hygiene habits, the Chinese are some of the most amazing, innovative and resilient people on this planet.
You're so full of shit. Fuck China.
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