An Accidental Date

"What exactly is an accidental date?" you may find yourself asking.  "And just how does it happen?"

Just a few short hours ago, I may have very well asked the same innocent questions.  Now I can only mourn the loss of such wide-eyed innocence.

Here's how it all went down.  Every Saturday I head into the city to tutor a middle school student.  This Saturday was a little different because there's a holiday next week.  Here, that translates into "making up" the classes over the weekend.  And, apparently, having an uncooperative American brain that screams, "But NO - weekends are sacred, people, SACRED!!!" is of no help in finding the motivation to wake up extra early on a Saturday/Sunday and face a roomful of students.  So, after wrapping up a day full of Saturday classes I hurriedly jumped in a cab to even more hurriedly jump on a train to the city.  I texted my student on the way to see if they wanted to meet me at the train station, as usual, or if I should just get a cab to their place.  Whoops - turns out she also had make up classes and wouldn't have time for tutoring at all this weekend.

Not being one to waste a trip to the city, I headed for the subway and planned the best use of my time.  Pizza, obviously.  Unwilling to settle for Chinese style Pizza Hut knowing there's a Papa John's in a far off district, and a commitment-free night ahead to track it down, I set off with great expectations and visions of garlic butter sauce dancing in my head.

After reaching the subway stop, I was excited to find the name of the plaza I was looking for on the exit sign - how fortuitous!  I could almost taste the melted cheese.  I immediately recognized the tell-tale Starbucks and set out directly across from it, sure I'd be mentally chanting "Better ingredients, better pizza!" in no time at all.  I walked around the plaza.  I walked through the plaza.  I walked above it and below it.  Growing perplexed, I decided to enlist the help of the locals.  A few seemed to have never heard of pizza in their lives (poor dears), but one uniformed guy called his colleague over and basically instructed him to personally guide me to a pizza restaurant on his way off work.  Excellent! Or so I thought.

We walked around the plaza.  We walked through the plaza.  We did not, however, walk above it or below it.  He finally told me he knew a great hamburger restaurant.  Fine.

While we were walking, he asked typical questions like where I'm from and what my salary is (yeah, that one barely even causes my eyebrow to raise anymore).  He also ventured into somewhat newer territory by asking the places I'd like to travel in China.  He boldly led me across a traffic-ridden street and verbally incited me to have faith in his protective ability.  How ke qi, I thought.

At the restaurant, he wanted to know if I'd eat there or have it to go.  Trying to find a way out and thinking he still had to return to work, I said I'd probably just eat there (I still wanted the ever elusive pizza, darnit!).  He then declared he also wanted to eat there.  Lovely.  I ordered and he insisted on paying.  When the food came, he regaled me with stories of his expensive watch and his hopes to one day travel to America.  Cool.  As I picked at the strange, little chicken strips, he then asked if all Americans are bigger than all Chinese people while complaining that I wasn't eating enough.  Charming.  Upon finishing his snack, he belched appreciatively and politely offered me a cigarette.  No thanks, bro.

Being in an unfamiliar district, I'd asked earlier if he also knew a place that I could catch a car back to my city since it'd be too late for any trains or busses to be running.  Naturally, after dinner he offered to show me the way.  Oy.  As we walked, he drew pretty close a few times - not hard to do in the land of a billion plus, so I tried not to think anything of it.  Until his gesticulating hand unceremoniously grazed areas that I prefer left ungrazed during such encounters.  Ahem.

A few days earlier, while walking with a local colleague of mine, we discussed humorous aspects of directly translating some phrases between Chinese and English.  One such phrase that came up was "chicken breast" - while a benign cut/order of meat in English, it sounds pretty...unsettling in Mandarin.  In Chinese, the proper description of the meat would translate more like "chicken chest."  Considering the more vulgar Mandarin option is not a word I typically use in daily conversation, I was surprised to hear him utter it while accompanying it with a more prolonged, um, graze.  Not ok.  So not ok.  A 5RMB order of chicken strips (less than $1 USD) is never worth that.  In any country.

So, yeah.  Worst (and hopefully only). Accidental. Date. Ever.