We leave and head to the 1 Plus 1 club, where we pass through a metal detector and are patted down for weapons on the way in (a ridiculous measure to make the club seem more Western and edgy). Beers cost 20 Yuan — five times higher than the 4 Yuan beers at the hotel — but this still translates to under three dollars a piece. The place is dark and laser lights create a maelstrom of color in the smoke hovering over the dance floor. Hot men in tight jeans and white tee shirts dance next to the dj booth, while behind them gorgeous women gyrate in sequined bikinis. At a table next to us is a group of young men drinking a bottle of Chivas Regal that probably cost about 1,000 Yuan (125$). Where did they get this kind of money? Ecstasy trading, cell phone stealing or perhaps they are spoiled by wealthy nouveau riche parents.

The men offer my friend Laurie shots and clink glasses with us — "gam be!" (Empty your glass!). I figure since we clinked glasses we should all get free shots, but what can you do? We move to the dance floor, where Laurie is pulled up onto a raised platform by a short Chinese woman wearing tight white jeans and a tank top. The woman begins dancing suggestively. Laurie shoots me a look of panic and yells "get up here!" and now I'm sandwiched between them, the music playing a techno-remix of Simon and Garfunkle's "Cecilia.”

The Chinese girl's signature move is head shaking — twirling her hair around her head in a tangle that is occasionally frozen by the strobe lights. She taps my shoulder and beckons me near, but when I bend down to her level she only smiles crookedly, tight lipped, and tilts her head. Does she want to tell me something? Does she want to kiss me? I scream "yeah!" in her face and keep dancing. I manage to stay pretty graceful until I get off of the platform, at which point I awkwardly fall on my ass and slink away embarrassed into the crowd rubbing my tailbone. Later I find out that her move, the head swinging, is famously known in Chinese clubs as an ecstasy-induced dance.

We move back out into the rain soaked humid streets and, ears ringing, head back to our hotel.

Click here to return to the top of the essay.