A Night at the Roxy

Change the bedsheets. Wipe down the bathroom sink. Empty out the
trash. You'll have to sweep and mop, too, you know how women are about
walking barefoot across a dirty floor.

Put out a new toothbrush. Hide the old ones in a plastic bag and put
them in the drawer next to your receipts and forgotten bills. Devise a
system to remember who used which one.

Amber used the blue toothbrush and also left behind a comb and a
compact. Put these together. Pink was Emily's, whose tube of cleansing
gel you bought for her at the 7-Eleven so she could remove her
make-up.

Green belongs to Tammy, who you bought a contact-lens case because
until a few weeks ago you didn't have the foresight to keep a spare on
hand. But you can leave this one out, just in case.

Make sure there's plenty of bottled water. Buy some Heineken for
yourself. Also, pick up a couple of cans of Taiwan Beer (if you strike
out tonight you can always head over to Melody's cafe. That's what she
drinks).

Hope that you do get lucky, because one day Melody will come to fully
acknowledge that you're an asshole and she simply won't go home with
you, no matter what. Or she might, but she'll tell you it's the last
time she wants to see you again -- at least until you show up drunk at
her cafe three months later. By then she'll realize you're no different
from all the other assholes.

* * *

If it's a Friday you won't have time for the gym. If it's a Saturday
go. There'll be plenty of hsiao jies at the 24-hour California Fitness
looking to hook up. Low-cut socks and tennis shoes. Bare midriffs.
Tight shorts. How does everyone manage to look so good and yet no one
seems to seriously exercise?

Pretend to ignore everyone. Instead, go through your routine: heavy
squats, flat bench press, shoulder press, tricep pushdowns and bar
bicep curls. Get pumped. Look at yourself in the mirror and smile.
Though teaching English is a crap job, you think, you wouldn't want to
go back to your life at home.

Look around occasionally to see who's watching. If that girl in gray
shorts and ponytail follows you from the free weights to the benches
where you do stomach crunches, go ahead and strike up a conversation.
Don't ask for her da ge da number. You don't have anything to write it
down with.

After a few reps say, I haven't seen you here before. She'll smile, say
something like, I normally come here on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Remember to come back on those days. Keep talking. If you think she'll
be impressed use some Chinese, otherwise stick to English. Most likely
the only person you'll impress is yourself, and she probably wants to
practice her English anyway.

* * *

At 11pm head over to Roxy 99, where your friends Kevin, Mike and Miles
will be at least three rounds ahead. The place will be packed with
hsiao jies looking for foreigners: 20-year-old students from Shida,
office workers in their mid-20s and 30-something veterans of the scene
whose parents are disappointed because they haven't found husbands
yet.

If Jenny's there say hi. If Celina's there watch out. Last time you
went to 99 she hung all over you, no one else would go near you, so you
finally took her home. The next morning you said you'd call but you
knew that was a lie. She probably did, too.

If it's a Friday night it will be just you guys. Saturday night and
Kevin will be with Jessica, his current thing for three weekends now.
Mike and Miles are also on the hunt.

Jessica used to be your thing for awhile. In fact, she was Mike's thing
before that. She hasn't moved onto Miles yet, though that's probably
coming and she'll be about the fifth to have slept with the four of
you.

Guys like you are probably the reason rumors get started, they way you
pass women around. Melody told you she once saw on the news a report
warning Taiwanese women against foreign men -- some unsuspecting and
now traumatized girl lured into a group-sex party because she liked an
American. Bullshit, you thought, she was up for it. You don't believe
that shit that passes for Chinese TV news, anyway.

None of the people you know have ever told any group sex stories,
though Mike and Miles have been known to bang the same girl in a night
at their place. You haven't yet been able to convince two girls into a
3p, but different girls on consecutive nights seems to be no
problem.

* * *

Buy the fourth round, Carlsberg draft. The four of you bullshit about
something. Maybe Miles will discuss his theory about foreign men and
the way Taiwanese women see them. If you have black hair, he says,
women say you look like Tom Cruise. Blonde hair and they say you look
like Brad Pitt. Miles: brown hair and a hint of Japanese heritage from
his mother's side. They say he looks like Keanu Reeves.

You might have something to add, you might not. If Mike retells the
story about how he's sleeping with the office manager at his bushiban
-- his boss, really -- just listen. Mike thinks English teaching is the
best way to get laid. Teach English to a group of college students and
at least four or five of them will be calling you on your da ge da, as
he found out his first day teaching adults.

If he doesn't tell that story, you might be expected to say something,
so tell the one about your first language exchange, and how that's the
best way to find sex in Taiwan. Three weeks into your first language
exchange and you talked her into going to a love hotel overlooking
Da-An Park, one lit up in bright neon lights. At the counter was a
picture display of twelve rooms and twelve slots containing keys. Your
friends know this story because they've done it, too.

* * *

At 2am head over to Roxy Vibe. Don't take the Roxy shuttle. Walk, it
isn't far. Miles won't want to go, he's British and hates the music.
But you think some of the music isn't bad so you'll go, even if your
friends ditch you for some place else.

The DJ plays music in sets of three. If you're lucky you'll get there
before the Seattle set: something from Nirvana ("Smells Like Teen
Spirit" or "Lithium," most likely) something from Pearl Jam, something
from Smashing Pumpkins (though they're from Chicago). If it's "Lithium"
you'll mouth the lyrics: "I'm so horny but that's okay ... My will is
good ... yeah, yeah ... yeah, yeah."

If you're really lucky there'll also be a funk set: Kool &; The
Gang's "Jungle Boogie," the Commodores' "Brick House" and James Brown's
"Sex Machine." If Jessica's there you'll dance. If not you might feel
like dancing anyway. But for the most part the music is rubbish.
Tonight it's Ricky Martin. Tomorrow it's Robbie Williams. Later it's
somebody else. So you spend the next hour scanning the room with Mike,
sipping a Heineken, making sure women see you're available.

There'll be some obvious candidates to avoid. "Corner monsters." That's
Mike's name for them. That women with bleached blonde hair and the
unfortunate lime green miniskirt? An easy bagger. You saw her come in
alone. You see her every time you come here. Avoid her. But it will be
fun to see which sucker tries to talk to her. Every loser fresh off the
boat will approach, sensing an easy catch.

You think you'd take lime green miniskirt home yourself, if it came
down to that. But there would be the shit from Mike and the rest --
it's just too embarrassing to contemplate now.

* * *

By 3am you're feeling desperate. The dance floor is packed. The DJ is
two songs into a three-song techno set, the room is choking with stage
smoke. Everyone's shaking their heads like lunatics, like this is a
real rave or something. You're worried because after the rave set the
DJ without fail mood shifts into Abba's "Dancing Queen," the crowd
screams in delight, and that's when you know it's time to go.

So you order another Heineken. To your right is solo girl, tight jeans,
not bad looking, nice smile, taking drags from a cigarette and drinking
a Corona, no lime. Looks about 25.

Taiwanese men probably wouldn't go for her, because they want their
women to look like 16-year-old pop idols with 95-pound bodies. But
Western men see the majority of Taiwanese women as being attractive. To
begin, they're far slimmer than women back home. You think solo girl
falls into this "good looking" category of local women overlooked by
Taiwanese men, but she hasn't noticed you.

In front of you are a pair of chicks who look identical: Black boots
that come up to the knee, short miniskirts revealing plenty of thigh,
long black hair. It's the black boots that hook you, they way they draw
attention to the legs. Women in Taiwan seem to go for fashion that
accentuate their best-looking assets. You can't live as a breast man in
Taiwan, Miles once said, but it's great if you like legs and asses.
You'd go home with just about anybody in a pair of knee-high boots, you
think.

To your left is seen-her-before, at TU maybe. I'm not a pretty girl,
she told you, and you took that to mean she lacked self-confidence and
don't get mixed up with her because when things turn ugly -- and they
will -- you won't want to deal with that psychological mess. But damn!
What about her self-esteem now? Black, skin-tight faux-leather pants
and a pink top with the flesh of her back exposed, a few strands
keeping it from slipping away.

You believe all women in faux-leather pants are hot -- and this one is
no exception. But seen-her-before is with another foreigner, grinding
her ass into his pelvis, the look on his face embarrassed to have
something so fine gyrating in his lap.

Pair of chicks, you think. That's your play. Though it's hard to get
between two girls on a night out -- neither will go home with you,
because how would that look to the other? -- the least you can do is
get a phone number.

That's when solo chick asks you to light her next cigarette.

* * *

Solo chick's name is Sophia, and she's solo because she wants to go
home with somebody. Though you came looking for her, or somebody just
like her, tell her you go to Roxy Vibe because you like the music and
wanted to dance with your friends. Tell her you like Taiwan and you're
taking Chinese classes because you want to speak the language, really
you do. Tell her you're a Virgo and she'll inform you that she's a
Libra or Sagittarius or whatever. She won't have to guess that you're
an English teacher, because what the fuck else is a 29-year-old with a
liberal arts degree who barely speaks Chinese going to do in
Taiwan?

She'll tell you how many brothers and sisters she has. She'll also
mention that she still lives at home, and you wonder what lie she must
tell her parents to stay out all night and go home with a foreigner, if
she lies at all. She'll also tell you she came with her friends but
they left earlier (she doesn't want you thinking she's also looking for
a one night stand).

By 4am you'll both be bored with your conversation. She'll ask you what
time you're going home. Look at your watch. Say in a half hour. Then
buy her another Corona and one more Heineken for yourself.

In the cab ride to your house hold her hand. The intimacy will seem
awkward then, but once you're making love it will become more
familiar.

* * *

If she doesn't talk much, don't worry. That's not necessarily a bad
sign. When she kisses you (and probably before then) you'll know what
kind of sex it's going to be. If it's that forceful kiss where her
tongue reaches far down your throat you'll know she just wants to
fuck.

You've had those sort of one night stands, the girl goes back to your
house and gets crazy, she wants to fuck like animals. So you do her
doggie style, grabbing her long hair, yanking her head back as she
brays. You slap her ass and grab her cheeks.

But if not and she's gentle when she kisses and she occasionally looks
into your eyes, that's not bad either. You'll take it slow, taking time
to appreciate the warmth of her body next to yours, happy two strangers
who didn't know each other two hours ago and barely know each other now
can share themselves like this.

Before you fall asleep, she'll ask if this was just a one night stand.
You smile. Of course it is, you think. But instead you tell her you
were hoping for two nights, or three nights, or however many nights she
wants to be with you (because relationships based solely on sex usually
stay that way, never growing into anything more, so there's no need for
you to worry). And that's better than the answer she expected, because
like most men you didn't lie and simply say no, it isn't a one night
stand. Then you kiss her and she buries her face into your chest.

* * *

Neither of you will sleep well. You sleep in fits through the night,
waking often to remember that you're sharing your bed, never falling
into that deep slumber where it's possible to dream. After a few hours
of this she'll tell you she has to be somewhere by noon or 1pm or some
other time. You tell her you have to be somewhere, too, about the same
time, but what you really want is for her to leave ASAP so you can get
some real sleep. And she'll probably go home to do the same, too.

At the door, you may kiss or you may not. Whatever happens, you wait
for her to decide. If she kisses you, great. If she doesn't you might
feel sad, but not too sad, because this is what makes you happy the
most. This would make almost any man happy, so don't complain.

You know you're a sex addict. Because like real junkies you spend your
time wondering where the next fix is coming from. Because you have zero
savings in the bank after six years in Taiwan and few memories of what
your salary bought. Because you don't sweat showing up late to a 4pm
English class if a hsiao jie has kept you in bed all afternoon. Because
you don't want to do anything to change your life. Why should
you?

When you wake again, if it's a Saturday, put out a new toothbrush. Hide
the old one in a plastic bag and put it with others in the drawer next
to your receipts and forgotten bills. Remember: She used the red
one.

If it's a Sunday, don't worry. Get some rest.