Hiccups

This is the mental summary of an unfortunate night out. I guess you could call it a poem of sorts.

That was a good dinner. I’ve eaten my fill of good food, had some good conversations, and now I can just go home and watch a movie. Huh, I wonder what they’re talking about. How much would I understand if they were speaking Mandarin instead of their local dialect?

Wait! That last bit sounded comprehensible, “走把。上车吧”

Yes, finally, something I understand… “Let’s go. Get in the car.”  But where…? Ok. I’ll just ask, “我们去哪里？”

Ok. They are just going to repeat that I should get in the car, they won’t say where we’re going. That’s strange. Maybe it’s because they know that I wouldn’t want to go. I probably don’t want to go, but how can I say no if I don’t know where I’m going. That’s there game isn’t it… ‘don’t tell him where we’re going and that way he can’t say no!’ Or maybe it was culturally inappropriate for me to ask where we’re going. Chinese people never ask these kinds of questions anyway. Now that I think of it, they don’t even have the arrival time printed on their train tickets, and nobody seems to care. Well nobody but me at least. Whatever, I’ll just get in. Why refuse an invitation from friends?

Are we going to my apartment? Oh good. They took me home. That was nice of them. Wait, no! They were just picking up another teacher… ugh. So close to being home, yet so unbelievably far… ugh. Where are we going now? It’s not even worth it to ask. The answer won’t change anything. I’m along for this ride regardless.

What! We are going to eat some food. This is absurd, we literally just finished eating dinner. This isn’t even dessert food, it’s just a second dinner. Wait, why are they all eating, they left food uneaten at dinner and now there ordering extra dishes… oh no! And they are ordering beer… by the case. It’s gonna be a long night.

Maybe I can make up a lie so I don’t have to drink any beer tonight. I’m taking medicine. There’s no way they can disprove that. Yeah, that’s a good one. The man to my right just said he’s allergic to alcohol.  That’s another good one, but it takes more commitment. Wait, now they’re arguing. Oh, god. They are going to make him drink some beer anyway.  Who makes someone drink something they are allergic to? Well I guess we are all allergic to alcohol in some sense, so it's not an outright lie.

Ok. My turn on stage. “I can’t drink tonight, I’m taking medicine.” They aren’t listening, “No. Really. I…” They are opening a bottle, “I can’t. It’s…” Oh great. One bottle. “Ok. Only ONE bottle.” I doubt he’ll remember that verbal contract. It’s never only one bottle.

And now the toasting game begins. Why can’t I just drink my beer slowly, why is the smallest sip always a full double shot that you have to chug when toasting somebody else? Why can’t I drink my own beer, that I don’t even want, at my own pace? This is a charade. I thought I graduated college last year.

Hiccup!

Haha. This is like a cartoon. Three bottles of beer and I start hiccupping. That guy to my right has al.. hiccup… also drunk three bottles.  So much for his aller… hiccup… allergy. Way to go with the commitment to your lie, buddy.

Hiccup!

I got in trouble once in high school for hiccupping. I came home from a party, and my mom heard me hiccup. She assumed I was… hiccup… had been drinking, but I hadn’t. I never drink beer. I hate beer. Ugh. Hiccup!

Wow. Almost three hours and I haven’t understood a single thing they’ve said. If you invite someone to come to… hiccup… dinner with you, you should at least speak a language they understand. Why am I even here? They aren’t speaking any language I… hiccup… understand, I already ate dinner, and I hate… hiccup… hate drinking beer. Next time I need to refuse the invit… hiccup… invitat… hiccup… invitation. I guess it’s just just by politesse that they… hiccup... I have to go to the… hiccup… bathroom.