The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me. --Ayn Rand

23.10.07

My head feels like death

I arrived in Shanghai at 2pm. After arguing with a guard and a taxi driver about what hotel I was going to, I finally arrived at an executive suite at a place called the Parkyard hotel. Once I saw how nice the room was, my main question was, “why can’t I fly in business or first class and have a slightly crappier room?”

Then I discovered exactly what part of Shanghai I was in—the boonies. It takes one hour by subway to get into the city center. So, Sunday night I bought a bottle of baijiu, poured it into a coca-cola bottle and drank on my way to gay town. The rest of the night was similarly sketchy. I’m just glad I didn’t do anything too stupid (and it’s unlikely I’ll see these people soon).

The next day at work was expectedly horrible. The Chinese language isn’t easy on a hangover. As soon as I got out of my meetings I hid in my room with the lights off eating a bag of chips.

So far Shanghai has been rather dull. This is a business trip, after all. Wednesday night I plan to gay it up once again, and hopefully I’ll leave with a good impression.

Right now I have an unbearable urge to eat a fresh chocolate chip cookie.

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