sofasurfers

A spontaneous decision to go and see this band (”The best live band in
Kunming,” my host had announced) was made (by me, course) when my host
also announced over dinner that he had a “bedroom appointment” later
that night. What?! Not even a living room appointment first? Straight
to the bedroom?! “Yes,” he said, coolly. “It’s complicated… ” Is
this in your bedroom, I asked, in your own apartment? “Yes, but don’t
worry – you don’t have to make yourself scarce. It’s fine.” I
obviously made myself scarce (though not quite in time – I was hiding
in my room when a waft of woman and perfume entered the apartment…
“This is pretty stressful, this …’thing’,” I overheard). When I
heard his door close, I opened mine and so I headed to the bar where
Lush has a residency. Since they were nowhere to be seen when I
arrived, I tried – and failed – asking, and then took to my notebook,
writing: “LUSH?” Naturally, I got some pretty funny looks from the
neon-flashing bar staff (really). Did they think I was asking if they
thought I was lush? Did they think I was looking for a drink? Perhaps
Budweiser instead, one offered. Anyway, I eventually found Lush,
hidden upstairs in a deserted room where the pick of the tables was
mine. “The only other people up here are waiting for a room
downstairs,” said the singer. (Downstairs, by the way, was a bearpit
of bacchanalia, with a 100% Han crowd hoovering up whole bottles of
spirits and lines and lines of beer laid out on their tables.) This
rare luxury of peace upstairs was quickly invaded by a group of
Israeli students who got busy with embarrassing disco behaviour:
illicit karaoke with the band’s kit, a little frottage and a lotta
noise. I sighed to myself: how long does one give for a ‘bedroom
appointment’?