Posted by Evan on Wednesday, 23 November 2005 at 4:53 pm
In an earlier post I said I couldn’t imagine having a wilder week in Chengdu without someone’s death… the past week has shown me that my body is capable of anything my imagination can throw at it.
The realisation of an intense and prolonged drug bender is not an easy task. Admittedly any fool can go out and recklessly take a whole bunch of drugs, however, the trick to a sustainable bender lies in moderation, variety, and a knowledge of how your poisons interact. If you persist in the consumption of just one drug then you will soon find yourself either burnt out or requiring medical attention.
This week was a long time coming. Indeed, the only reason I’d come back to Chengdu was so I could spend one last week with my friends before J and I left China, to return to our respective homes. As such I’d made a concerted effort to ensure we were well and truly stocked.
Have a plan and stick to it.
The night started like many others–down at the Shamrock with a couple of drinks while everyone slowly gathered together. Tonight, however, we’d been invited to attend the opening of a new dance club. Ironically the gangster who’d stolen my hat a few weeks earlier (see Party Week) was opening his own club and wanted foreigners there–to give good face. As an incentive for coming along he gave us three bottles of Jim Beam!
A $5 hat (that wasn’t mine) for three bottles of spirits at a night club… that sounds like a reasonable trade to me
As the first night of my final week in China I’d decided to begin with a bang…
After two and half pills of ecstasy, washed down with countless glasses of bourbon and coke, I was feeling pretty damn good.
It was at this point that I elected to tackle the issue of Betty. After a week of separation I’d realised that I really wasn’t that interested in her. Coupled with my immanent departure, being tied to her just didn’t seem that attractive.
With the unique honesty that ecstasy induces I raised this delicate topic in a rather direct manner…
“I’m leaving China very soon and want to have as much fun as possible before I leave. This means that some nights I may want to be with you, whilst other nights I will want to be with different women.”
After Betty and I had had our little chat, and all the free alcohol had been drunk, we all decided to head across town to bigger club where they play better music.
Getting a taxi from one club to another should be the easiest of tasks, however, this time it proved unexpectedly eventful. As everyone departed the club and piled into several taxis I disappeared from the group…
Through a peculiarity of my mind, no matter how drunk I get, or how many drugs I take, I’ve never blacked out. It’s both a blessing and a curse to always be able to remember what you’ve done the night before. Tonight however was different.
The last thing I remember is giving some hash to a friend outside the club, so he could roll a joint in the cab. My next memory is of being back on the dace floor, at a different club, about five hours later.
Through subsequent conversations with several people who were with me on the night I’ve since been able to account for most of the missing time. There is, however, a two hour block unaccounted for, where I disappeared when everyone moved clubs. Who knows what shenanigans I got up to as I wandered the streets of Chengdu alone, off my face on e and blind drunk…
I do remember, however, that later that night there was a prolonged altercation with a security guard who surprisingly took exception to me smoking a joint inside the club. Being in a somewhat euphoric state, however, I decided that what he really wanted was to get stoned himself, so I repeatedly offered him the joint.
Sunday & Monday
One of the inherent problems with leaving these entries till so late is that unless something special happened I can’t really remember, two months on, the details of what occurred. I’m sure both days involved smoking pot and binge drinking, but nothing really salient happened so I can’t be more specific.
One thing I must note, however, is the importance of tea consumption during this period. By far the most popular drink among rich people in China is scotch and iced-tea. There’s something in the tea that aids your metabolism of alcohol, which in turn gets you drunk faster. Additionally the anti-oxidants in the tea reduce your potential hangover. If you’re going to be up all night drinking and don’t plan to sleep then it’s important to drink something that’s not going to leave you feeling crappy the next day.
Today was a bit of a mid-week relaxation day—the calm before the storm—spent laying about smoking cones through the ergonomic bong I’d created using a technique learned in Dali.
In the evening I went to see a performance of traditional Sichuan opera with Jeroen and Lianca. After what turned out to be a rather boring and pedestrian performance we had a couple of drinks at a nice bar before heading back to the apartment (I was sleeping on Jeroen’s couch).
Consistent with my earlier conversation with Betty, I’d put sleeping with Lianca on my list of things to do for the week, and as it was getting rather late for a work night, Lianca decided to stay over.
Unfortunately, being a rather clever and switched on person, she saw straight through my façade…
“You just want to fuck me because you’re leaving China soon and you want to fuck as many people as possible!”
When confronted with this sort of revealing honesty it’s hard not to just admit it. Which of course meant I didn’t get laid
During the planning stage for this week I’d expected to be spending a lot more time with J and O than I actually did. Tonight, however, was J and my night in.
Beginning with a ‘few’ drinks at the apartment before an intended departure to a local bar, we soon ended up far too drunk and stoned to be going anywhere—thank you Qingdao brand whisky!
As I’ve no doubt mentioned before, J is a really big guy. Consequently he can certainly hold his alcohol. He can’t, however, hold his pot. After he slumped over on the couch with his eyes closed, I saw my opportunity for revenge (see Weekend at Bernie’s). Rallying the others into action, it took all three of us to lift him off the couch and push him down the hall into the elevator.
The though of dragging him across town to a bar, like he did to me, seemed like far too much work, so I decided to ditch him in the basement car park. Once we got him out of the elevator we found a nice flat surface to lay him down on.
Vaguely aware until now that we were fucking with him, J suddenly bust into motion, pushed us all aside like rag dolls and fled up the car exit ramp. Feeling a little guilty we followed in the elevator and made sure he got safely into a taxi heading home.
After getting the first decent sleep of the week I woke just in time to get a taxi across town to Betty’s apartment. One of the things I’d decided to do before I left was learn how to cook my three favourite Sichuan meals, and with Betty’s traditional attitude to gender roles she was naturally delighted to oblige.
After a delightful meal we spent the rest of the afternoon working off the calories. Afterwards, feeling totally spent, I headed home to chill out for a while before beginning the final stage of my week—three consecutive nights of non-stop partying.
Chengdu may be a city of over eleven million people but that doesn’t mean anyone outside of China has ever heard of it. So it’s quite the novelty when someone of even moderate fame comes to our little city.
To be honest I’d never heard of DJ John Digweed, however, a British friend had heard him play before and was rather excited about him coming to Chengdu.
After strawpedoing [sic.] a couple of longnecks at the Shamrock (thank you J), and taking some e at the club, I danced for hours to the best music I’d heard in over a year.
When Digweed’s set ended I decided that the time was ripe for another attempt with Lianca. This time things went a lot smoother, and we soon ended up in one of the spacious toilets of the club next door. Unfortunately I’d taken a bit too much ecstasy to be performing at that early stage of the night. Lianca, however, had to work the next day so she went home and invited me to drop in for sex when I was tired of dancing.
At about the same time everyone else I knew decided to call it a night. It was then that I noticed a very familiar looking Chinese girl waving to me from across the room. Suddenly remembering where I’d met her before—in the apartment of a friend, three weeks earlier—I wandered over for what I expected would be a rather limited conversation–not least because she can’t speak any English.
As I think I’ve said before, my Mandarin is functional not conversational. So imagine my surprise when I fully understood what she was saying to me…
“My friend and I want to smoke pot, do you have any?”
As I was on my way down from the ecstasy this seemed like a great idea. Standing outside in the cold smoking a joint, it wasn’t long before we were making out…
It had been three weeks since I’d seen her with my friend, Fabian, so I just assumed that she couldn’t possibly still be with him (if you’ve met Fabian you know what I mean).
The second joint, however, was probably not a great idea as it sent both her and her friend to sleep. They departed shortly after, and I stayed on till the club closed at six, before getting a cab to Lianca’s apartment to take her up on her offer…
Surprisingly, Lianca wasn’t that impressed with me turning up after six and still as high as a kite. A little focused affection, however, and I was well on my way to making amends.
A couple of hours later, after she’d departed for work, I went back to my apartment to smoke pot and rest, in lieu of getting any sleep.
Due to an unfortunate turn of events earlier in the week—namely, my drug dealer getting deported for manslaughter—I found myself running a little low on pills. I had, however, had the good sense to pick up a vial of methamphetamine while I was in Dali.
As everyone else who’d been out the night before was too tired to do it again tonight it was just Jeroen and I down at the club.
After taking half an e, we headed to the bathroom a few times to smoke some meth using a sheet of tin foil and a hollowed-out pen.
Whilst not that great on its own, it certainly does add a delightful extra dimension to a low dose of ecstasy.
It was at this stage that my ex-girlfriend, Dong Dong, whom I’d seen once in the last four months, turned up. Within a few minutes the two of us were making out, with her friend standing right beside us.
As we made out her friend tapped me on the shoulder and said, “I’m here too…”
One of the problems, however, with Chinese women is that you can never be sure when they’re being intentionally coy and suggestive and when it’s accidental.
After giving Dong Dong my last half pill of e, I was hugely disappointed to see her suddenly leave because her hateful, abusive brother was waiting for her in a car outside. As she left the club she whispered in my ear, “I want to sleep with you before you leave.”
Nonetheless, a few hours of dancing later and I was ready to drop in on Lianca again…
With no need to get up early for work today Lianca was a lot more amenable to my sudden arrival. As both of us were feeling a little tired, however, we smoked some meth before fucking like athletes for four hours straight.
After we’d both come down, the mental strain of not having slept in two consecutive nights started to get to me. Thankfully Lianca was tolerant to my erratic behaviour and we spent the morning hanging out together before I left to meet up with Betty.
After dispensing with the remaining practicalities of my departure—namely shipping 19 kilos of junk home—I was set to return to my drug and alcohol frenzy.
Once again the night began at the Shamrock, however, as it was my final night in Chengdu I couldn’t think of a place I’d less like to hang out. After buying a few rounds of drinks I left for Babi club with about half of my friends, whilst the others promised to follow soon.
When we arrived we organised a table and I bought a bottle of Chivas Regal. After finishing off the scotch and having a couple of lines of ketamine we moved to the club next door where I bought a bottle of vodka.
It was at this point that the complex sexual interplay between everyone at the club started to resemble an episode of Jerry Springer. One often hears of love triangles, however, not so often does one get to be involved in a complex sexual polygon involving nine people.
There was me; two of my ex-girlfriends (Dong Dong and Betty); the girl I was currently sleeping with (Lianca); the guy she wanted to have a threesome with, and whom we’d both made out with on another night (David); his girlfriend (Vivian); a girl he’d picked up the week before (who’d been making out with his girlfriend when he wasn’t looking); an Aussie guy his girlfriend had picked up that night (Mark); and a friend’s girlfriend that I’d been unwittingly hitting on.
And as the drugs and alcohol continued to flow everyone made out…
Through a process of elimination (i.e. they were the only ones left when the club shut at six) I ended up taking David, and Fabian’s girlfriend back to my apartment. As Lianca so eloquently put it, however, “Everyone got so fucked on drugs that no one got fucked.”
As the sun rose on my fourth consecutive day without sleep the prospect of getting a little shut eye seemed pretty attractive. Any thoughts about my pending train departure were far from my delirious and drug addled mind.
After sleeping for a couple of hours I was woken by Jeroen to the awful news that my train was departing in just over an hour. As I staggered about the apartment collecting the last of my things I cursed my foolish decision to sleep. I felt so much worse having given my body a taste of what it had been so keenly missing.
Despite the unscheduled nap everything was running perfectly to schedule. I quickly ate half a bowl of hash-chocolate—that I’d made from the semi-cultivated pot I’d harvested in Yunnan—and then jumped in a cab to the station.
Everything was timed so perfectly… on a completely empty stomach the hash would kick in just after I boarded the train and I’d fall into a blissful slumber for the next sixteen hours.
What I hadn’t accounted for was getting the only taxi driver in China who wouldn’t speed. As he trundled down the street, seemingly oblivious to my increasingly frantic cries that he drive faster, the departure time for my train got ever closer.
When we arrived I threw the money at him and was out the door before the car had come to a complete stop. Charging into the station I lowered my shoulder and scattered everyone who stood in my way. But, alas, I’d arrived three minutes too late.
As I walked outside contemplating how I’d still be able to make it to Kunming to catch my flight to Laos the next day a familiar feeling started to take hold. In my urgency I’d forgotten about all the hash I’d eaten.
Staggering forward a few steps my legs fell out from beneath me. Through a combination of anger at missing my train, being suddenly very stoned, and the sheer emotional stress of a three day amphetamine bender I completely broke down.
Lying on the ground, in the middle of the afternoon, weeping inconsolably before collapsing from exhaustion and sleeping for two hours in front of hundreds of people waiting outside the station.
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