The Brewmaster and his Mistress

No, this isn't a romance novel that I'm reading, although I have to admit it sounds really quite exciting. On Sunday, while Ken and I were hanging out before I went back to town, a gentlemen at a nearby table ordered us a beer. I cringed, it was only 4 o'clock in the afternoon and I was on my way home. We look over to discover that the man that ordered us a beer was a Chinese man who had the ability to speak English in complete sentences. His pronunciation wasn't the best, but the only other man in town that could speak English well was a man who used to be a migrant worker in Abu Dhabi... I'd really like to interview him at some point.

Right, so , this man had a crisp white business shirt on, nice glasses and he ordered Ken and me a beer. Nice man – it turns out – he introduced himself as the Brewmaster. Insidious? Not at all, yet. When he opened his mouth, I saw three rotting front teeth of his mouth and realized the poorness of Chinese dentistry. Is America the only country obsessed with dental work?

The Brewmaster of what you ask, and why do I keep capitalizing the B? Because I've deemed its importance and I make the rules on this blog and in my classroom – rawr. Not related, sorry -  A lot of the comments on this post will be otherwise unrelated. The Brewmaster is the brewmaster for the only beer that we can drink in town, Lancang Jiang. It's palpable when it's cold but when it's not, it's rather disgusting. I doled compliments on his work and departed on my way.

This was the last I would see of the Brewmaster… until Tuesday. How kismet! Unfortunately, I had come into town on the afternoon bus and was planning on staying at the County seat overnight so that I could run copies of a test for my students and enjoy 50% off steaks at the No. 1 Steakhouse in Yunxian/ the only steak house in Yunxian. We at TFC patron this place a lot so I know that I could sit there alone for hours on end and not be disturbed. Well, this is true no more. As I was eating my steak et steak frites, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bulky body of the Brewmaster. I kept my eyes tightly fastened to that of my Kindle, the book that I was reading suddenly a phenomenon that I had never seen before. He circled me a few times before he caught my attention. "Hello, do you remember me?" Imagine this is said in super bootleg broke ass English. I nodded politely. He kept speaking English, I responded to him in Chinese as a way to combat his poor pronunciation. Normally, if you lead by example, he will sooner or later start to also speak the Chinese.

"Can I sit down?" So begins the adventure. He started by talking about his daughter who had just gone to NYC for a Model UN conference. He was from Qingdao and was working at the Lancang jiang beer plant. He had worked in France for Dannon and in England in a brewery. He appeared to be an overly intelligent man and therefore I assumed that he'd be able to understand English brilliantly. I finished my  meal within two bites of the conversation and couldn't find a way to extricate myself. I would wait until his food arrived, I told myself.

His food never arrived. He never ordered food and he was rude to the wait staff. I think it partially has to do with the fact that he's from the North but also because it seems like having the manager and the wait staff hate you was a point of pride for him.

I waited another spurt of times before I started to crack. I had no idea what time it was but I was tired of making small talk, I wasn't having fun and I didn't want to be there anymore. I pulled out my cell phone and made an emergency text. Ken, John Kuo, Tom and Lucas all received texts from me – They needed to call me immediately, I needed to get out of where I was immediately.

Tom answered my SOS immediately. Unfortunately, the Brewmaster at this point decided that he needed to excuse himself to go to the little boy's room. AHHHHHHHHH. Tom's call was in vain and not only that but the Brewmaster came back to tell him that he had invited his friend over and they were coming soon.

I laughed, taking it in stride on the outside, but freaking out on the inside. Another man like the Brewmaster? HELP. I waited for thirty more minutes before another kind sir helped me. Lucas.

Lucas: Hey

Christine: Hi! Are you in town?

L: No, I'm at school.

C: Great! I'm going to come see you in 30 mins.

L: You're going to come to Maolan in 30 mins.

C: No, silly. I'll call you.

L:….okay.

C: See you in 30 mins!

Lucas hangs up clearly very confused, and I hang up, cheerfully before looking up to my present company.

The Brewmaster and his friend; I was mistaken, He had invited his mistress to dinner. Why did I assume that this girl was his mistress? First of all, he's mid 40s, early 50s and near the top of the brewery. This "co-worker" of his was clearly a girl younger than me, who worked in quality control at the Baijiu bottling plant. The two never should interact with one another and clearly would not if they were not having an affair. She's a local and he doesn't even understand what she's saying most of the time. Upon the arrival of his mistress, he ordered way too much food including a ball of icecream for me that forced me to stay even longer. I looked at the clock ticking away – 30 mins had almost arrived.

Isn't this great, the Brewmaster said to me. The next time you come into town, you should tell me and the three of us should continue to hang out together. He seemed very confident in his plans for fun. What. The. Fuck. I mentioned to him that I might like to invite other friends, but he casually pushed that away. He truly wanted to only hang out – me, mistress and himself. This, I couldn't fathom. He was enjoying flaunting his English prowess to a girl that couldn't even properly speak Chinese. Disgusting.

 I had arrived at the Steakhouse at 6:30 and it was almost 9 when I left.

During this time, I managed to wrangle a carte blanche invitation to the Lancang Brewery that I hope to actually go to next weekend. This means that I will have to call this sleazoid but at least I wouldn't have to go at it alone.  Two and a half hours, almost well spent. I went home, finished watching Gnomeo and Juliet and great enjoyed the rest of my evening lying under air conditioning, alone.