My first Chinese date was with a break-dancing, bisexual bartender covered in self-drawn ghoulish tattoos (One-Way), two of his friends, a translator, and many “delicious” night-market snacks. By delicious I am referring to the congealed duck blood and rice cakes, and SKEWERED CHICKEN HEARTS. The first lovely snack was a slimy oyster-filled broth, which despite a lifetime of chopstick practice, I failed dismally to eat. This confirmed the suspicion that a fork should be carried at all times when taking foreigners to eat in public. I can’t say what brought about my serious failings - it may have been my fear of the snacks, the pressure of having to eat first, or being watched so intently, but either way my ancestors hung their heads in shame. Apparently being half Chinese means you can only do half things, so I told my ancestors “I can successfully eat with one chopstick,” but they just ignored me.
Despite the shaky beginning, One-Way and I dated for three months after the night market. We spoke in Chinese (I didn’t understand him because I don’t understand Chinese, and he didn’t understand me because I don’t make sense in Chinese); he made me free cocktails at the bar, and I in turn slapped him on the ass; and we shared a love of game arcades, or so he believed. We learnt about each other slowly, and sometimes by accident - like the time I found out he was afraid of heights on the roof of my 15-story apartment building. Eventually it had to come to an end, but in retrospect, the best thing about One-Way though was he always had ‘plenty of time.’ Despite working a 7 day week, he got off at 3am – a great time to call and wander the streets of Taipei, even on weekdays. Oh, the Taiwanese!
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Despite the shaky beginning, One-Way and I dated for three months after the night market. We spoke in Chinese (I didn’t understand him because I don’t understand Chinese, and he didn’t understand me because I don’t make sense in Chinese); he made me free cocktails at the bar, and I in turn slapped him on the ass; and we shared a love of game arcades, or so he believed. We learnt about each other slowly, and sometimes by accident - like the time I found out he was afraid of heights on the roof of my 15-story apartment building. Eventually it had to come to an end, but in retrospect, the best thing about One-Way though was he always had ‘plenty of time.’ Despite working a 7 day week, he got off at 3am – a great time to call and wander the streets of Taipei, even on weekdays. Oh, the Taiwanese!
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