Postmodern Sleaze

My new job requires me to attend as many hell-bent events as possible as all insiders know it is the doohickey of how business rolls ahead in Beijing--the quality of guanxi and the quantity of acquaintances. Despite the intricacy in the variety of events, I became more of a bitter feminist after years spent studying the social species in the international circle.

Last week I was all dressed up at a weekend cocktail of some sort of a Chamber thing. The dim light tapered my wee eagerness to brush elbows, and the grey and black suited and skirted throng made me suffer with the urge to cry. For a silent minute I keened for some bright color among my peers, so that I didn't look like a peacock bimbo. Damn!

Until finally I was introduced to some mid-age lawyer, an overseas born Chinese woman. Since there was not much business talk to invent in my head as: 1) I was an idiot on the attorneyhood and the only thing I did to gen up some knowledge was to watch Ally Mckbeal; 2) I wasn't planning to ruin my intriguing saucy style by sounding like an idiot in front of a serious-faced ABC.

So I started this way, "So how do you like your life in Beijing?"
"It's okay." She answered briefly and calmly.
"How long have you been living here?"
"Two years." Brief answer without a dip for a further expression.
"So do you like to go out?" I heard myself having short breathes.
"When I have time." She rolled her eyes, but not blinking.
"So you like to cook?" My head somehow stopped working and I started stupid questions, trapped.
"Well when I have time." She kept the eye rolling.
"Travel a lot?" Heart attack heart attack!!!
"When I have-- oh I do travel on business sometimes." She rubbed her upper lip with a napkin, as if to scrub off the first part of her sentence.

Then later this week, I was summoned by a friend who had an event emergency for the shortage of attendees. Dropping the dishes I was about to enjoy on a private evening I jumped in my dress and thundered to the venue, only to find the speaker was a familiar (yes, once again to highlight the fact that we were living in a small world), who had a bad reputation of his manhood in the dating climate of Beijing. I wondered suddenly why the hell the fast-changing city had to always recycle the stinky trash instead of saving some room for the newcomers.

What an eyesore to tolerate! When the speaker was whooshing his arms up and down like a police stopping the traffic, playing his game with phoney smile and pracitsed humor, my peer and I were staring at each other blankly, unsure to swallow or just puke the yck out on his face.

Twenty minutes of schmoozing was right after the speech, a Chinese version of the "Postmodern Sleaze" replaying. My girl friend secured me from some possible bad behaviors of showing my disdain on "Oh you look so familiar! Have we met?" and frenzy of name cards exchanging.

We finally perched on a night club couch, laughing away the dreaded evening. The band was great and we stimulated the dancing muscles of the shy teens by jumping on the empty stage first . And yes we were a group of nuts playing teenage fun on adult checks.

Wish my Beijing had more to offer.