Ode To Windows

When I first came to Shanghai nearly four years ago, my Frommer’s travel guide basically called out the following places for halfway decent nightlife: Pegasus, Park 97, Xintiandi, and Windows. Flash forward to present day: the list of bars and clubs that have risen up, only to be battered down by Shanghai’s fickle citizenry, is long and not exactly low-profile. But still standing is the dumpy franchise that is Windows, which now comes in three distinct flavors: Too, Tembo, and Scoreboard. And it was at Tembo where we found ourselves Friday night for a relatively toothless Guys Night Out.

Windows is the site of many a tear-inducing memory. I can still vividly recall Keith being pushed into one of those hideous group dance circles, looking bewildered for a second, and then launching into what can only be described as an existential rendition of the dancing chicken. There was also that time Steve went missing for half an hour, only to be discovered on the steps outside, trying to fend off a strange creature of unknown gender trying to cram his/her/its tongue in his ear.

Through thick and thin, one can always depend on Windows for insanely cheap drinks, throngs of exchange students, English teachers looking for their respective diamonds in the rough, and warmed over hip-hop tunes fresh from the Pegasus and Guandii tours of two years prior. Chace, Mike, Peter and I peeled labels off our 10 kuai beer bottles, repeatedly complained about being shoved in the “old people’s corner,” and gently nodded our heads to the beat where, in our younger days, we might have been gyrating on the dance floor. It was fun. Safe and clean fun, but fun nonetheless.

And then, as if the Maxim gods above were exhausted by our utter boringness, a gift was bestowed upon us. Chace came back from the men’s bathroom, flush with excitement.

Chace: There’s a dude passed out on the crapper, spread eagle for everyone to see. You guys have go to go check it out!

Normally, the prospect of seeing Chinese dicks out in open air doesn’t really fan my flames of interest; I’ve been to Babyface too many a time to know that there are plenty of Chinese dicks out there. But given that this was Windows, endearingly rotten to its core, we all had to go see what Chace was so excited about. Lo and behold, a toad-like being indeed was near comatose on the shitter, the door kicked open for all to see his glory. This was definitely a change of pace from the rest of the evening. And since all of us had downed a fair amount of beers, one of us always had to go back the bathroom and take care of business, and then return to the table to provide updates on our new, exhibitionist friend. Afterwards, we spent 15 minutes Bluetooth-ing each other’s cell phones, trying to save what come to represent the perfect visual symbol for the consequences of a mass of 10kuai beers:

I sincerely hope Windows stays open forever. I can’t imagine this town without it. And, heaven forbid, if it ever does close, the four of us will have these wonderful images to bring back these terrific, down and dirty memories.