Delayed blog means the bar is on time

So my bar is finally opening up for business. Technically it's in soft open mode. So today's post is about menu's.

Because I'm one of the founders of my bar as well as the managing partner I found myself in the unique position to do what I felt was right as long as it revolved around two major points: 

Will it make money? Will it be fun?

First off, a bar is a business. Anyone that thinks that they do it just for the love is either so rich it doesn't matter or not responding in a revenue earning potential. Of course, I love making cool drinks and the art and technique of it all but I won't have these opportunities if I'm not make cash money every single day. If you're not hustling at the bar then you're just a customer at the bar. I really and truly believe bartending is art, you're physically creating a cocktail with your hands. Depending on the drink, you're using a pick to crack ice, you're slapping mint, you're measuring, you're tasting, you're appraising then finally when your drink is at it's pinnacle you serve it up to be judged by your guests. At the same time you're taking multiple orders as you look cool and jump around to the music. It's honest work for debaucherous souls. None of it means shit though if your pour costs are too high. 

This is where the joy, heartache and compromise of menu creation rears it's ugly head like a drunken Chimera. For my bar - I wanted to focus on cool cocktails that I wanted do drink as well as some unique Punches which is my theme. As one does I costed out my drinks onto an excel spreadsheet (yay math) and then rubbed my eyes and nursed several large gins as I methodically crossed out things that were way to impractical. In literary terms, it's called killing your darlings. After the wholesale slaughter of all my dream drinks (Louis XIII Sidecar anyone?) I needed to come back with some things that would work for my pour costs and keep a roof over my head. Instead of a lot of crazy esoteric alcohols that I needed to import or hand carry from other countries I focused on making crazy syrups, reductions and inventive uses for the common fruits I would be using anyway. One of the cocktails I came away with was a Smoked Grapefruit and Roasted Thai Chile Margarita which I could serve as a punch or even an individual cocktail. Costing out a margarita is pretty simple especially if you're using fresh home made lime juice, house tequila (mines 80RMB a bottle but still 100% blue agave) and cointreau. The costs of the grapefruit and thai chile were negligible as we're using them for many other things both in the kitchen and in the bar.  

From that eureka moment more and more drinks followed, Salted Caramel Old Fashioned's, Strawberry Green Tea Mojitos, etc, etc. I'm not trying to re-invent the wheel when it comes to drinks but I'll be damned if I do any more of that pre-prohibition bullshit. Yes, I'm aware Old Fashioned's are "pre-prohibition" but shut up.

With Punches, since they are volume drinks it came to be more like deconstructing a recipe, examining it's strengths and weaknesses as well as costs and prep time. I found drinks I can prep the day before tasted better and we're easier to serve in the volumes that I was looking for. I also used a lot of inspiration from David Wondrich's fantastic book, "Punch" to get the idea behind some recipes as well as the history. 

Then I made some drinks that are so amazing, so delicious that they defy the written word. My Punches turned out so well that in the history of humans interaction with alcohol this is the biggest thing to happen since someone thought to add ice to a distilled spirit. Possible hyperbole in that sentence. You'll have to come over and try though. 

So will my menu be fun? I've added the "F" word a lot because that's a fun word. I gave my drinks names like, Wheel Chair Assassins, The Bastard of Bolton and Naked Lunch. There's dirty jokes on the menu as well as literary references for the high society boozer. I think the menu defines one of your most important guest interactions. For the guests it's a little piece of this strange nightlife world that's explained to them in language they can understand. I don't care if your menu is in Chalk, Printed or scribbled on a sleeping hooker, what you choose to write reflects what you are about as a bar. Because I'm in Shanghai my menu is in both English and Chinese and so I thought it'd be interesting to play with the dual nature of drinking - the light and the dark. For the English, the language was rough and braggish and in Chinese instead of doing a direct translation I went the opposite and it flows almost poetically. Each menu item description lists the same ingredients but the message it conveys in the limited space tells a completely different story.

With every menu you should want to push it to the limits and show people that the best bars, no matter how well they're decorated or how shitty they look can always be Business in the front and Party in the back. 

Like a booze serving mullet. 

The Business of Booze

300,000 RMB = 50,000 USD spent in the club WTF

Booze is big business in Shanghai - it's not uncommon to see a table with 100 bottles of Dom Perignon competing with the table next to it with 101 bottles of Dom. These are Champagne wars and they're outstanding. But, the booze business is much different here then what I'm used to in the States and because of that, I don't know how I'll ever operate back in the west in regards to F&B. Like, China - it's just bigger. 

To understand the booze business you need to understand the drinking culture here. I think that it's a big trap that a lot of foreign companies fall into when they're looking to move into the China market. Booze companies see the staggering population numbers and feel like it's an untapped market. The truth is, outside of the major international 1st tier cities like Shanghai, Beijing and even Shenzen the market is pretty much non-existent. I read somewhere that 97% of the population only drinks local brands outside of the 1st and 2nd tier cities. Travel outside of Shanghai for two hours to a place like Mogan Shan (莫干山) and you'll see at the clubs the only bottles to be seen are beer. Cheap, local, plentiful and warm. 

Wait, hold up - this isn't a lesson in economics. For a moment I almost did some research. 
Let me change my train of thought. Here's Hooters Shanghai:

Creating a business relation in China or how I learned to love Baijiu

So, as I mentioned in the last post I'm opening a bar. This entry will be about business  dinners in China The key to any successful business relationship is trust. In my almost 4 years of living in Shanghai I've seen that the way the locals build trust is by getting completely shit faced drunk over a long dinner or a trip to a KTV. Oh, China...

Typically after you've got a solid business plan and investors you need to find a property in which to conduct your business.  Here, in Shanghai and I'd imagine most other places in China the next step after you acquire a property you need to meet up with the local government of your district and wine and dine them for specialty licencing

                             
       (Hairy Crab, getting business done in Shanghai since forever)

Now, several things will happen at these dinners, there will be lots of chain smoking, oceans of Baijiu (a sorghum based alcohol) and rivers of red wine and or whiskey. For some reason that I can't quite understand most foreigners do not like Baijiu I however love it. It reminds me of burning hot firewater that takes a root in your throat, lights up your esophagus and warms up your belly. It's delightful and not for the faint of heart. It tastes of lychee and watermelon and bright faced exhilaration, after several shots served in tiny little cups it feels like anything is possible and my attitude and my paltry Chinese suddenly get much, much better. On the other hand though, if you don't like it then you'll probably puke. 

              (Chicken feet and cigarettes, the final thing I remember)

                                               

I've learned in China it's not the end of the world to puke or pass out at a dinner as long as you puke in the toilet and pass out at your seat. Being drunk is not a bad thing but being drunk at a business meeting when you're supposed to hold your own and is looked down upon. Yes, they will be trying to out drink you and yes you will be the host/victim of many toasts and shots but you can not falter. This is where I shine. As a beverage master for more years then I'd like to count I can hold my own with anyone from local government. That's when it starts getting crazy. Human nature is about competition, when it's two different nations being pitted together in the brotherly act of business drinking there only two options. Either surrender or leave the table of battle as equals. 

Every business dinner starts with a sizing up of the opponents. Usually, it's evenly represented - each side with an equal amount of people. Cigarettes are exchanged, with the heads of both parties receiving priority followed down the ranks. Then comes the toasting. I was once told long ago by a translator that if I don't like to drink I should say something like I'm sick or blame it on my religion. As a foreigner you'll be excused for these things. But, I'm not sick and my religion never held me back for taking out a table at a business dinner. 

Back to the order of events though, So the dishes are coming served family style,because this type of meeting with government always takes place at a Chinese restaurant that you're paying for. If you don't like Chinese food then don't eat much of it, but remember when your with government people the chances are that they've already ordered in advance. This is no problem if you have yourself a hardy before hand. Even if you like Chinese food, and I do, it still doesn't hurt to carbo load before you go in. Try to grab a huge dinner of rice or pasta, anything that will help you absorb the torrential rain of booze that's headed your way. 

After many interesting dishes made of things that you might not be comfortable eating do to moral, religious or textural issues the food is finally finished. Some fruit is served and the drinking begins in earnest. 

Someone told me a trick once where every time you cheers with Baijiu your supposed to take the shot and then chase it with a sprite or even water and actually instead of drinking your actually just spitting it into the clear non-alcoholic chaser beverage. This is for beginners and I've never tried this before. Why waste perfectly good alcohol. Keep in mind, these bottles are about 100 USD per bottle or even higher. When you're doing business with local Chinese government it's not cheap. I'm not going to say the "B" word here but this another form of it, hugely expensive dinners that foster business ties. If you want to do everything right, make sure all the forms are filled out, all the mountain of paperwork processed then these are the steps you need to take. Also, it's not my culture so I won't judge. I just know If I want a legitimate business then I need to go through the legitimate channels and these are them. It might be different if you're opening a flower shop but I sling booze and that's that. 

By now, everyone probably had a few shots and there is some etiquette involved. If your the head of your side you should make an effort to cheer the head governmental person. If you aren't the head of your side then it's the head of your sides duty to cheers the head government guy. It goes like that naturally with other people from the government side cheersing both you and your colleagues much the same way. Over and over and over again till the room is red faced and smoke covers the air, at this point there should be a few lesser governmental officials sleeping at the table. The toilets should be covered in puke and if you've succeed in not making a total ass of your self or being to drunk then the head governmental official will say that it's time to go. Don't make the lead government person loose face by getting him too drunk unless he's the one initiating it. If he stops drinking don't force the issue. Later, there will be an effort on their part to pay the bill. Whatever happens don't let them. Discreetly pay, also pay for their equally expensive take away items that they've already pre-ordered and then start saying your heartfelt good byes. After the dinner concludes both sides generally like each other much more and even though there is a huge ocean of language and culture for those few merry hours of complete alcohol overload the ocean turns to a puddle that's that's easy to hop over as long as you don't throw up. 

Machine Gun Funk

Like all foolish things I set out to do this with the greatest of intentions, to dig deep and commit myself to writing about the nuances and craziness of bar tending overseas, of living the crazy American dream of little work, lots of money and a maid that comes three times a week. Then, the darkness crept up on me, I started to say simple little things like:

It’s cold here now in my second year of Shanghai and I’ve been racked with this terrible cough for the last few weeks. Before that I was food poisoned and even worse then that, I started playing my xbox religiously - these are excuses as to why I haven’t been doing any writing of late - haven’t been detailing my adventures in vigorous, whiskey numbed prose punching out words to a silent computer screen that reflects blood shot eyes and a devilish grin.

I had to stop that though - lying in bed all day, refusing either to go to the gym or to write and sleeping, truly sleeping in my desolation and depression was getting to be way to emo for me. The thing is that it’s not that I haven’t been having new adventures, new stories and favorite new concoctions but it’s just been that I’ve had no reason to write them down. Which is stupid because if I don’t write it out, experience it digitally again then sometimes the thing is like it never existed at all.

I’ve changed jobs since my last real posting, I left the half empty bar where no one would go except for my friends to a new crazy awesome nightclub where the only people I seem to meet are my friends or people who’ve always pretended to be my friends, bass music,vodka, champagne, loud uncontrollable nights that don’t end until way into the next day crowing themselves in the glory of the cold cloudy Shanghai winter days. In a way I’ve made my piece with the dawn, that ugly hour that sends us frantically scurrying to our homes in fear of the coming of the light. I’ve made my piece now with hangovers and wear them like a three piece suit, top two buttons clasped, last button open with a big pocket square.

I neglected myself for the last few months, I’ve put on a few kilos, got a few more grey hairs maybe stared into the mirror to much about my own mortality. Which means, while I’m unmarried and doing a job I love I should do everything about it to live the moment to its fullest, to grab the Jameson by the bottle and drink it up like life flowing from a shot glass.

Debauchery and diatribes ahoy...

American style drinking versus Chinese Style drinking

I have a good friend out here in Shanghai who is from Singapore, named Karl. He's very well off, educated in the UK and an all around crazy guy, the other day he asked me why Americans don't buy bottles at nightclubs here but instead individual drinks? He told me, he just didn't understand it. As a Lao Wei or a foreigner as well as a bartender I always thought that with the exception of a few select spots,the cocktails in the mainland just sucked in general and this led to it being smarter and better to buy a bottle. It's one of those things I've noticed my entire stay, if there are a group of Asians they will almost always order a few bottles of either Champagne or Whiskey and Green Tea or Vodka and mixers for their table. In terms of Westerners, it's always rounds of drinks.

I thought about it a little bit, maybe it was due to the fact that most Chinese people I know don't like to rent - they buy. So renting an apartment is frowned upon here - you stay with your parents until you have enough money to buy your own place. Why buy a drink in a bar for 70 rmb (almost 10 US) when you can typically buy a bottle for around 700-1000RMB (or roughly $100-$150)?
In  the nightclubs - the local culture is to grab a table with your friends, order many, many, many bottles, girls,fruit plates, as you smoke lots of cigarettes and party all night.

In the States, while it's not unheard of getting bottle service at the club it's just extra VIP, balla status. Not the norm. In the States a huge mega dance club will have a big dance floor, huge bars and a small VIP section. In China, where the people are a little more conservative with how they’re perceived, the dance floors are much smaller and usually packed with Lao Wei and bottle service reigns supreme. There are even second and third tier cities where there is no bar, just a small dance floor, 300 tables, lots of black lights and Lady Gaga.

Karl keyed me in the fact that the Chinese are very communal. This goes from the way they eat, in terms of big family style shared plates, the way the families live together as a group and how most holidays are centered around spending time with relatives and loved ones to the the way they drink. A bottle bought for the table is the ultimate showing of community. It's a little feudal as well, Karl explained to me, when he orders a bottles at the club, it's now his table - he's king of the table. The girls, the booze, he's host of the table and it's in a way holding court and  as always  I am the strange and ruggedly handsome visitor from a strange and far off land. There is more to it as well, at a Chinese table there are tons of drinking games, dice, things with your hands, all designed around getting everyone at the table, involved together, communicating, getting hammered drunk and bonding over distilled grain products.

In a western table with individual drinks the conversations turn more individual, one on ones. If we are westerners together at a bar are conversations are for the most part centered around groups of two's and threes. Obviously the exception is for birthday groups or bachelor/hen parties but that is not the norm.

So next time you're at a bar or a club in the States and you can afford it, or grab your friends and pitch in for a bottle. If anything, a shared bottle at a table is much like a campfire in that everyone gathers around it, it's sparks conversations that you might not of had before, it creates memories and hell, it's a lot easier then going back and forth for another round of Appletinis. If anything, you've got a story to tell. Play drinking games, cheers loudly with friends and bond over that booze - it's one of the reasons life is great in the first place.

I wanted to make some kind of bold statement about the differences in mindsets is that Americans are a nation of individuals, we've been told since our birth to be unique, to stand out whereas the Chinese are taught from the beginning that the nail that sticks out gets hammered down hardest and that conformity was the name of the game - I wanted to make some far reaching metaphor about Justin Beiber and Chairman Mao but it's getting late and both Karl and the KTV are calling and you never want to turn down a KTV with Crazy Karl....

Cheers,

Article 3 for Metrowize

American Bartender in Shanghai

Article 3

 

By Logan B.

 

Ever wanted to know what a pinball feels like when it's drank a bottle of counterfeit Macallan 12 and spent the last 6 hours bouncing from massive club to massive club in the hot humid neon filled arcade of a world that is Shanghai? Well follow along with us as we hit the clubs in Puxing, Metrowize style and you too can find out for yourself.

 

As a wandering rapscallion and part time trouble maker I've always been drawn to dive bars and bottles drank en out of brown paper bags, in the name of science though and for Metrowizes virtue I dared to subject myself to the night club scene in Shanghai, to discover how they do in this part of the world - what follows is an ear drum shattering oddessy of excess, betelnut, short shorts and ultimately Shailong Bao.

 

China, is over the top - its a mixture of two parts free range capitalism and 1 part communism with some expats thrown in the mix shaken and served neat in a rocks glass with a Tsing Tao chaser - which means, things don't end here - they just go on forever. I found this out first hand when I stepped into my first night club, Muse 2 - it's in the heart of downtown, in Hong Kong tower which is part high end shopping mall and part portal to la la land.

 

It's packed inside, the Dj's playing nothing but American hits, Jay Z, Biggie Smalls, Lady Gaga the normal club bangers on a massive system that just bleeds bass. I'm not sure if the club is free or not to get in, as a foreigner I find I can just waltz into most places - pretty casually as well. There are pretty women all over the world, beautiful women in some parts and absolutely stunning ones in Shanghai and since it's summer time they've all taken to wearing short shorts, short skirts and mostly follow a less is more attitude with clothing which is exactly the right attitude. The place is chock full of these signature stunners, a smile on my face  and blood being preparing itself to meet with a high alcohol content.

 

The big thing in the clubs is bottle service presented at your table - which I had arranged before hand - the good thing is the exchange rate is 1 US to basically 7 RMB so a bottle of Ketel One runs around 800 RMB which is a little over 100 US not bad at all for a bottle of booze in a hot night club. The cool thing is that at the clubs they'll have performers do live dance routines to some of the songs - or someone will come out and rap to a hip hop song, all sorts of entertaining things. On top of that they constantly bring you out fruit plates.

Now, I arrived at the club with one of my Bartenders, Gold, who was to serve as my trusted guide for the duration of the nights festivities. We showed up around 12 am and the place was packed - in a city of over 22 million everything is usually packed, this is a good thing. 

 

At our table they bring our bottle, 6 or 7 cans of Red Bull the Chinese version which is a smaller can, no carbonation and from the little chinese I understand is made with Bull Piss - which I hoping is what I heard because otherwise it's made with a part of the bull which doesn't belong in polite conversation. We start dowing the bottle, people join us, people leave, I find myself happy that the locals haven't yet discovered Ecstasy because I just don't what the effect would be on this many people in a club - what they have though is something called Betelnut. As a side note, I've only read about Betelnut in books and on the web - I've always wanted to try it, I've been waiting for this moment of betelnut discovery since I came to China, that it's finally happened has sent me into shock and awe.

 

Betelnut is some sort of nut that you put in the side of your mouth and chew on it as you drink, it keeps you from getting wasted no matter how much you drink - you're buzzed but you can down a few bottles and still be ok - it a wonder stimulant, it's legal in China (not the US) and like everything else out here, it's out of control. It give you an energy boost like caffeine but the down side is that it turns your teeth black after awhile. Needless to say, I'm investing in a teeth whitening session when I get back to the States.

 

With our new found Betelnut powers we left Muse 2 and went to Rich Baby, walking distance, louder bass, more beautiful women lots of singing dudes and this time at our table, fake macallan 12 and dice. There's a drinking game they play all over the place here called Liars Dice, I've seen it in the KTV's, I've seen it at Cafes - basically anywhere there is liquor there are dice and a cup. The gist is you shake a cup with 5 die in it and your opponent does the same, you then try to out bluff your opponent by saying you have a better hand - I didn't get all the rules because I was drunk - but that's the main idea - it's a drinking game so the loser has to drink, heavily.

 

Casual observations from behind a bar

It's funny the little things you notice that are different when making
drinks in Shanghai, the way some of the fruits are exactly the same as the stuff you have back in the states but yet not. For example, the apples are just not as sweet, the watermelon, while pink and vibrant in color is just dull tasting - almost lifeless. Or the imperceptible fact that the water is so polluted that rumor has it that if you brush your teeth with it your teeth will probably fall out due to the high amount of carcinogens and lead in the water which leaves everything to being made with bottled water and questionable ice cubes.

Then there are limes and lemons which are shadows almost of the citrus that we find in the States but this isn't a complaining article, it's just a thought. -a casual observation from someone who has been observing limes, lemons and other fruit related items his whole working life.

Then of course like anything else, there are the good things - fruits and flowers and smells I can't spell but will try anyway,  the Yao Mei berries, little red cherry looking bastards with the texture of the outside of a lychee but yet edible only available in Spring, the fragrant Guo Lai  flowers you can only find in Autumn who's heady smell is like a perfume that lays a heavy mist over the parks and lightens up my tea in the cold,  or roasted Chestnuts over a stone fire sold in street stalls in Winter - the stands and markets become something of an exercise in trust for me, a Lao Wei as I barely understand any Chinese but believe the smiling Wet Market hawkers when they tell me with wrinkled faces, crooked teeth and double happiness cigarette stained hands that yes, the carrots are only 3 Quai  for six, I believe them - because what choice do I have?

Other things pop up here, the fact that no matter where I go, or when I go there I always feel safe. Sure I have seen fights but not that many and none involving me. I've seen some traffic accidents but still I'm not involved. There is no graffiti, no gangs hanging out in corners and while I'm not naive enough to believe there is no crime I just don't see it ever and I'm someone who goes out looking for trouble, who gets black out drunk and walks down the street with thousands of RMB in his pocket without a care in the world down dark alleys and such looking for the sketchy clubs, chasing dragons under the moonlight as I dance with the devil and still I find it safe.

It's the people though that are the real difference, I'm not talking because they are different from me in appearance but in how they appreciate a drink, a meal and their time spent together. 

I'm fortunate to see from my perch behind the bar groups of friends or families or yes, lovers, who can sit at the bar or in one of the sofas at the lounge and really appreciate the time they spend together. That's something I admire in the Chinese that I don't find in myself - the willingness to take the time and hang out with  the people that are important in your life. I see groups of people sitting together for hours just enjoying each others company, sipping on new drinks I recommend, talking, making jokes with each other, texting, smoking and taking a step back, together. On the other hand, I'm like a Shark - always on the move, on to that next spot, meals only taking as long as it takes to cram food in my mouth and chew, drinks being absorbed almost immediately, no sense of pacing, no relaxation, just a constant search for something. Maybe it's a woman or another drink but I'm never still, always restless always going till I'm gone. 

With the new year around the corner maybe it's time we all take a second to stop, share our time with the ones we love, in the end, it's the only tip I've ever had that's been worth anything. 

drinking, bartending, Shanghai, China, expat, nightlife, adventure

"Thank you and I hope you enjoyed the ride, please make sure you have all your baggage before leaving" parrots the cab driver as I get out of the cab. I've got 106 RMB worth of DVD's and it's a Monday night. There is something so sincere in his voice, like he wants, no, like he needs to understand exactly what he's saying back to me - the machine voice of the computer attached to the cab mimicking every mouthed vowel and constant of his happy tired face.
"Mei Guo Ren" I say, as he stops at my place. The only shared language we speak is the turgid version of Chinese taxi language that I can utter out behind whiskey stained lips.
We've drank 3 bottles of Jameson, import only, the real stuff - not the fake, burn your eyes out and singe your nose hairs style fake booze that is so common place.
I take a deep inhale of the cigarette, fake smoke enters the mouth, through my lungs, burns like newspaper burns, fast and toxic, exhaled in a poorly constructed, 'O' and it's all I have to show for the evening.
The blinding white screen of the laptop in front of me, not truly transcribing the events, like a phonograph - eerily recording the sounds.
Oh, what sounds they are, vapid splashes of color playing on the LG TV to a '60's style groove as 'Our Man Flynn' plays on the flat screen in the rented apartment on Xing Guo Lu.
James Coburn is practicing his karate as languid trails of off white smoke hang lazily in my cramped two bedroom.
It's a cold night, silent and empty, alone to the warm embrace of almond eyed Chinese girls, skin brown and soft in the moonlight. Lights are scarce as I sit alone, a modern cave man, the only fire burning is in electrodes and diodes.
A lost refugee of the night, struggling against the enormity of the situation.
We've followed the words of Tyler Durden, we've reached rock bottom and started to dig.
On the other side though is a world we never could have imagined.
Close your eyes as I take you with me...

The street I live on is lined with trees, oaks or maples I'm not sure which but the former French concession is sick with them. A block down, past the piles of dead amber leaves and shaved tree trunks lies the C store with steamed buns and DVD salesmen outside.
I'm trying to paint a portrait in prose about the world outside of me and all I can capture is the blank, never ending promise of the white screen in front of me

On Models, Mayhem and Soap

It's strange out here in the middle Kingdom, the crowds and the language leave me feeling like a single melting ice cube in a giant glass of single malt scotch. There is so much to discover out here that I don't know what parts of myself are melting away into the mix.
Most of my nights are spent around bottles of familiar spirits, then it's the women, Asian women, Lao Wei women that share my mornings, my afternoons and dreams. Hauntingly absent from any sort of schedule but depressingly familiar all the same.
This week was no exception, it's just an odd world of indulgent sex, of friendship with the strangest people and the occasional green tea flavored condom or toothpaste.
There is so much the same between the US and China and yet like Cucumber and Mint flavored Lays potato chips, so much is different.
I've been here 8months and am starting to see this place as my home but who if not what am I becoming? I know it's a trouble maker but that's someone I've always been. I feel like I'm on the cusp of something out here, the verge of some new exciting whirlwind and I don't want to get off before it's to late.

Nanjing day dreams

I remember it was my first time leaving Shanghai for any type of trip outside of my monthly to Hong Kong to show the government that I was only a tourist. We boarded a Mag-Lev train and for a moment it was sci-fi, traveling on magnets near 190 KM per hour. I'm not sure how fast that was, just the blur of stuff passing by, like when you've woken up after a blackout and are trying to piece together the previous night. In a blur we arrived in Nan Jing, former Capitol and home to some of the worst atrocities committed by the Japanese during the war. I was drinking Er Guo To from a little bottle in my jacket, it's basically cheap 10 RMB Baijou from Beijing. It does the trick and it's fucking lighting in a bottle. The rest of the day was a blur of photos and mad races with rick shaw drivers, laughing at a gold money tree and convincing the locals I was blind. As always, a win. 

A day in the life of an American Bartender in Shanghai

A minute by minute true story
by Logan B. 

A day in the life of an American Bartender in Shanghai
by Logan B

Everything here is true

8:30am
For some reason my marketing manager Estelle starts forwarding me emails about events that are happening throughout the month at the place I work. I turn the phone on silent and go back to sleep.

11am
The phone starts ringing I switch it to vibrate but now I’m up. I’m pretty hung over and check my body if there are clothes on then I went home alone, however if I wake up naked then I must’ve had company.

11:15 am
Start checking emails on my shitty Samsung Anycall phone running what I believe is a bootsy version of Andriod. Really want to order some food from Sherpa’s for delivery because I’ve got no groceries but my head hurts to much to do anything except mercy call McDonalds. Big Mac attack - again.

11:25am
Seriously considering going back to sleep but I don’t want to miss the delivery guy...again.
Ponder the question, can you be black balled from McDonalds delivery service in Shanghai if you miss 3 out of every 5 deliveries?

11:50am
Wake up to the impatient knocking on my door from a delivery guy. I stumble over to the door, quick to throw on a robe as to not expose him to the real secret of my success.

12pm
I feel disgusted with myself for my Mcproblem. Stumble into the shower.

12:45
So fresh and so clean and I take the time to straighten up my apartment. The Ayi won’t be in for another day or two and I know I’ll have company before hand.

1pm
Feeling better I head over to the local police station to register myself in my new neighborhood for my new place. It’s weird and no one is speaking English. I call the expo help line to have them translate for me over the phone to the lady cop who keeps saying strange things to me.

1:15pm
I sign some papers and get things stamped apparently  my papers are in order but my passport is about to be over extended and I’m told to get to the Bureau of Entry and Exit Asap.

1:25 pm
Jump on the Metro and take an underground train to Pudong with my fellow co-conspirator Anissia. We take the 2 to the Museum of Science and Technology exit where it seems as if they have a huge fake market set up in and around the station. Bombarded by calls for fake watches and good deals

1:30 pm
Consult my email on my phone about which direction to walk to find the bureau. End up walking towards the wrong slanted building

1:35 pm
Walk the right way, pass a huge gray concrete building with a strong communist presence, lots of children are doing marching band stuff - buses lined along the street and there is a  light skinned Muslim guy selling a mountain of what looks like cashews covered with what looks to be watermelon covered gummi candies. Stop walking and turn around and walk with Anissia back to the station - we think we’re lost.

1:40 pm
Call our friend Sable who is on a modeling gig in Chengdou about directions. She sends us a long text about going either East or West and I kind of tune it out and follow the gut.

1:45 pm
Pass the light skinned Muslim guy for the third time, he comments on it. Head towards where the marching bands are competing. It’s weird to see that many children without rhythm.

1:50 pm
Head in the building, it’s like a huge bureaucratic mall  and head to the escalator and hit level 3. Take a number and fill out forms with inexplicable  questions, such as “Name a host or someone who is vouch for you”. Head to the second floor and take passport photos and then to the first floor to get coffee. At the ATM machine realize I left my Bank Of China debit card in another ATM earlier in the day.

1:52pm
Try not to panic

1:53pm
Repeat to myself my favorite Buddist saying,”The things you can change there is no need to worry about and the things you can’t change you don’t need to worry about.” Ask Anissia to cover the bill for our passport renewals.

2pm
My number is called and I go to the police officer in charge of Visas. I’m a day over and my rakish good looks and rakish charm fail to win her over. This whole time I thought Chinese girls liked me too...
I’m told to head to another office for people with expired passports. Walk over to Anissia who is having an equal amount of passport problems.

2:10
Instead of being a responsible adults we bail, passing the light skinned Muslim guy again - what is he selling?

2:12
Hit the train back to Puxi

2:30
Without money I realized I’m screwed so I borrow 100 RMB for the bar’s tip jar and take a cab to the ATM near my house where I left it. No luck at the ATM and I call my Chinese friend to ask her to ask the clerk at the store counter if they found it.

2:32
They shake their head and the cursing begins

2:38
I’ve run out of English curse words and have switched to a mash up between Mandarin and Spanish

2:45
Hail a cab back to my issuing bank and to have my mind blown

3pm
The teller tells me to cancel my card and makes me produce my passport  which I have. Cancel the lost card and ask to withdraw some money.
The clerk tells me without a bank card they’re not allowed to let me withdraw any of my money.
I point out that I have my passport of proof that I’m me and that they just verified all that proof when they cancelled my bank card.

3:01pm
Call my Chinese friend to help sort out the situation. She comes to the bank

3:06pm
I can’t tell if they are yelling at each other or just having a conversation

3:07pm
OK, they are yelling.

3:08pm
No, no wait - it’s just a conversation.

3:10 pm
Get frustrated due to lack of sleep, dehydration and money and tell the teller to just cancel my bank account with them and give me all my cash. Am told by both my Chinese friend and the teller that they can’t close my account without a bank card. Are they messing with me?

3:11 pm
Throw down my hands in despair...you win that one China

4 pm
Head to work

to be continued in the a day in the Night of an American Bartender in Shanghai.