Drunk, socially inept asshole

Many people's impressions of Americans come from movies and one of those impressions is of the American frat boy. The stereotype being of a loud, drunken douchebag who says things like "WHOO HOO" and "KEG STAND MUTHAFUCKER!!!" And while that stereotype isn't all true, the guy I met a couple weekend's ago certainly fit the bill. The sad part was he was way past the age to be in a frat but somehow missed that fact. By the time I was introduced to Overage Frat Boy (OFB for short), he was in prime form, sweating, red faced and affectionately jockying with his friends by calling them all "Faggots." Charming.

One of our mutual, perhaps thinking it a good joke, introduced me to the ever suave OFB...and then promptly melted into the crowd much like how I imagine OFB's STDs probably melted into one another.

"Hey, how are you?" he slurred as he extended one meaty, sweat glazed hand. "I'm good." I shouted back over the blaring music. "Where you from?" he asked as he scooted closer. "XXXXXX. Where are you from?" I replied. "I'm from Kansas." A long, awkward pause ensued as I desperately tried to find my "friend" but he was infuriatingly no where to be found. Fuck. "So... uh... my friend XXXXX is from Kansas. She's back there now. She's from Kansas, you're from Kansas. You MUST know her right? Ha Haaa..." I feebly joked to keep the conversation going. "What THE FUCK?" he shouted. Confused, I attempted to keep joking, "Uh... you know. It's a joke because obviously why would you know her? But I guess if you do know her, you can say hello to her for me when you're back in Kansas. Haha?"

"My fist can say hello to your face. HaHA. How's THAT for a joke?" He retorted, whilst actually making a fist in one hand and gesturing with the other as to my face saying hello to it.

Our mutual friend, who had apparently been gleefully watching our awkward convrsation turn horribly wrong hurried over with an appalled look on his face. "I don't really think, my face wants to say hello to your fist." I told OFB as I got up. "I would however, like to go to the bar and have someone buy me a drink." I looked pointedly at my slightly sheepish friend.

Walking in the city

Living fairly close to the bar areas of the city, I've taken a liking to walking everywhere especially as the weather turns warmer. Usually, I'm fairly paranoid about safety and back in my home country, I would never wander out into the city late at night without at least one or two friends in tow when walking anywhere. Though Beijing is a big city with it's share of big city crimes, in the bar areas it's crowded enough that I feel fairly comfortable going solo when en route to a destination.

Beijing's catcall to daylight ratio is an inverse one and as the sky darkens, the multitude of catcalls a solitary girl receives goes up exponentially. However local Chinese catcalls and expat catcalls vary substantially in delivery and subject matter. Like my home country, the expat catcalls here hinges on a yelled compliment ("Hey girl, you're lookin fiiiine!") or a inquiry as to your well being ("How you doin'?"). The local Chinese catcalls though are usually yelled out an open window of a car and always involve you joining them for a drink or for a ride in their car. Come to think of it, perhaps the local Chinese catcall isn't so much a catcall but a feeler for if you're a prostitute (hooker-call?).

What's the best catcall (or hooker-call) you've gotten? It's been eons since we last posted so we'll see if anyone really still reads this blog.