2 Questions Every Girl is Asking Herself

Chapter 2

I love Angela for so many different reasons, one of them being how much fun she is.

The first night I move in with her, we go clubbing together...with her mom.

Angela's mom – Auntie Sun, is an interesting character. And terrifically attractive. She's been everywhere, seen everything, and is open to trying everything at least once.

Which of course includes...clubbing. It was Auntie Sun's birthday, what better way to celebrate than to party it up after a nice meal?

And so here we were at SiTong, a popular night club frequented by foreigners and Chinese alike in downtown Tianjin. Like Auntie Sun, it was my very first clubbing experience in China. I was brimming with excitement. We enter a beautiful high rise building, walk down a winding staircase of polished marble, and arrive at a glittering wall of gold bird cages housing ravens, which hung over a small pond sprinkled with red rose petals. We ended up sitting at the coolest seat, or more accurately, bed, in the house - the Dragon's Bed. (Why does this remind me of the TV series Dragon's Den?)

This bed was like a mini house. It's a four-poster bed with a canopy on top, carved out of rosewood. Hanging off the center of the bed "ceiling" was a red lotus flower, illuminating the entire bed with a seductive glow. There were padded cushions made of embroidered yellow silk everywhere. We sat cross-legged around the short and stubby little wooden table on the bed eating watermelon and drinking pre-mixed Jack Daniels and Bacardi Breezers, while the band played American music on stage. Auntie Sun blended in just fine, in her olive sweater and black pencil skirt, classy as ever, "I feel like a mama-san sitting on this bed with the two of you!" (Mama-san is a woman who works in a supervisory role in certain establishments in Southeast Asia, typically those related to sex work.)

Angela called up a couple of her friends to join us, two tall, handsome boys in their twenties, Leo and his little brother. I felt tiny standing between the twin towers, being at eye-level with their perfect pecs even in my five inch heels.

I love being around Chinese guys, they make you feel like such a woman. The way they walk with you, frame you with their bodies, blocking others, and even telling you where to stand, makes you feel like a little bird in their mighty presence. Leo's shy younger brother, though not a man of many words, has a face that speaks for itself. He should be on television for being so good looking. I couldn't help myself from stealing glances his way throughout the evening. He was afraid to look at me, while I loved gawking at him. We did get to dance a bit. Thanks to Angela. Our awkward dance must've have looked like lady gaga wooing her body guard – my busting out all of my best moves trying to make an impression and his standing stiff like a totem pole avoiding eye contact at all cost. Angela whispered to me in secret, "he's a couple of years younger, but for a summer love interest, he'll definitely do!" I can't believe she's putting such thoughts in my head! I mean, I would consider it...

If he'd only ask for my number!

Until the very end of the night, he never asked for my number.

Maybe I was being too forward with all the dancing and staring? Maybe I'm not their cup of tea? You know, the kind of tea for authentic Chinese men?

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But the next day, I did get to go on a date...

With Angela and her "blind date", as the honorary third wheel.

Before I go into detail about the date, I should tell you a little bit about Angela. Angela's my good friend from university. Charming, witty, funny, direct, cute as a button and has a smile that lights up the room. I could take her anywhere and grandmas and grandpas, aunties and uncles, basically the general population from the previous generation would fall in love with her instantly. A princess at heart. But without the fussiness. Clear headed on the things that matter, and quite muddy headed on the things that don't. Not the most organized and diligent student, but efficient and effective at cramming. She always did better than me on last minute cramming sessions, especially if it involved math. We'd spent many nights studying together, painting nails, talking about boys, sharing diet tips, I'd tell her how to be sexy, and she'd tell me how to be classy, and I'd crash on her couch and she'd make me soggy instant noodles in the morning.