Mambo in Chinatown

Mo Li said, “It’s an experience. I went to a few clubs in Boston, but this type of pure Asian nightlife is really New York. Decadence’s infamous. I want to see it before I die.”

“That sounds really scientific,” Zan said.

“And I want to meet a cute guy,” Mo Li added. “We could use some action.”

We all burst out laughing.

—

A few hours later, the three of us were freezing in the line for Decadence. Almost everyone there was Asian and many looked Korean. It wasn’t that crowded yet but we could see the two bouncers at the front choosing the people who got in. Most of the pretty Asian girls were admitted. Some of the guys entered too, especially if they were with an attractive woman. Almost all the non-Asians we saw were sent away. Other Asians were stopped too. I wasn’t sure why. As we drew closer to the front, I signaled Zan and Mo Li to try to listen in, so that we could maximize our chances of getting into the club.

The bouncer said to two guys in front of us, “Do you have a reservation?”

“Um, no,” one of the men answered.

“Good-bye,” the bouncer said.

The other man took the bouncer’s hand, shook it and said, “We’ve got the money.”

Glancing at his hand, the bouncer said, “Three hundred dollars minimum per table.”

The two men consulted each other, nodded and then were admitted.

Mo Li squeaked, “Three hundred! I didn’t know you needed a reservation!” I shushed her so I could hear what the other bouncer was saying.

The other bouncer was talking to another group consisting of three guys and two girls. Both girls were beautifully made-up. The bouncer didn’t ask them if they had a reservation. He just smiled and said, “You lovely ladies are welcome.” He then turned to the guys. One was paler than the others, his hair slicked back above his high cheekbones. The bouncer said to him, “You’re in too.” Then he addressed the two darker men, who seemed like they might be from Southeast Asia, and said, “No sneakers allowed.”

Only one of them was wearing sneakers. That man said, “But he’s wearing sneakers too!” He pointed at the guy who’d been admitted.

“They’re better sneakers,” the bouncer answered.

“What about me, then?” the other man said.

“Wrong type of shoes.” The bouncer shrugged. “Sorry.”

The girls and guy who had been admitted started to protest, trying to get their friends in as well. The bouncer was adamant. Finally, the two rejected men gave up. As they walked away, one of them said, “At least we speak English. We’re not like all of the fucking super-FOBs you’ve got in there.” Their friends gazed after them for a moment, then ducked into the club.

It was our turn. I felt Mo Li’s hand push me to the front. I looked at the bouncer and forced myself to smile. He smiled back, then turned to my friends. Zan was standing next to me, trying to appear friendly, but it looked more like she was grimacing. He started to frown. Then Mo Li opened her mouth and said something to him in Korean. Zan and I both stared. We had no idea Mo Li could speak Korean. She gri

As we stood in line inside for the cashier and coat check, Zan said to her, “When did you learn to speak Korean?”

“In China.” Mo Li shrugged. “I speak Japanese and French too. I was supposed to become a diplomat if we hadn’t emigrated. Asian languages aren’t hard when you’re Chinese.”

“Oh, what about for us then?” I said.

“I mean, when you’re a real Chinese. I mean . . .”

By then, we’d entered the main dance area and could hardly hear each other anymore. The DJ was blasting house music. The club was massive. A huge chandelier covered with glittering jewelry hung from the high ceiling. I’d heard it was a Decadence tradition for women to throw their bracelets and necklaces up there. The central dancing pit was ringed with tables, already teeming with men. A balcony above us was filled with tables and guys as well. I saw passageways leading to what Mo Li had told me were private lounges for larger groups. Some girls were dancing and a few men were flailing around on the dance floor. I almost laughed at what Dominic would say if he could see them. Mo Li bought one of their signature drinks, the Decadent Orgasm, which we shared. It tasted like gin and mango juice. Between the entry fee and the coat check, this night was already very expensive. We’d have to go easy.

People were pouring in. Almost everyone was Asian and the few non-Asians were accompanied by groups of Asians. Everyone around us at the bar seemed to be speaking Korean. Strobe lights played across the shirts and hair of the people on the dance floor. Beautiful go-go girls stepped out onto raised podiums and began to dance a choreographed number while lights spelling out the name of the club flashed across the ceiling. The dancers were pretty good.

I grabbed my friends’ hands and pulled them onto the dance floor. I wanted to do some real dancing before it became so crowded that all we’d be able to do was to jump up and down. Huge clouds of steam poured over us. I let the beat pound into me. Zan was leaping from foot to foot like she was jogging. Mo Li threw her fists around as if she were beating someone up. We gri

I raised my arms and spun into a spiral. When I arched my back, my entire spine flowed. Whatever I felt, I could express. It was wonderful, like I could tap into a part of myself I’d never known existed before. I felt in control and free at the same time. The three of us danced song after song. Then I felt someone tap my shoulder, a waiter in a white shirt and bright blue pants. Had I done something wrong?

He grabbed me by the wrist and started to drag me off the dance floor. I pulled back but he was very strong. Mo Li and Zan noticed and followed us. I looked around wildly to see that other girls were being taken away by other waiters as well, mostly under protest. The women all seemed to be scantily dressed. I wasn’t wearing anything like that, why was I in trouble?

Then I realized the waiter wasn’t ejecting me from the club. He brought me to one of the tables, where a group of young men were sitting. They had a bottle of brandy and a plate filled with appetizers in front of them. The music was too loud for us to be able to talk. The waiter indicated I should sit, then he left. The guys gri

When we finally left Decadence, I was sure I had permanent hearing damage.

Mo Li said dreamily, “Racism, sexism and stupidity all in one evening. What an experience.”

—

It was January and I was back at the studio, sitting in the teachers’ room. By now, I was used to the dancers stripping down. I always changed in the ladies’ room but the others often stood in front of one another in their underwear. Viktor now wore no shirt and polka-dotted boxer shorts. He was so thin you could see his ribs. Katerina giggled and pinched his bottom.

“What is it with the two of you today?” Simone asked. “Did you have great sex last night?”

Viktor winked. “Even better,” he said. “We had great rehearsal this morning.”

Everyone laughed.

Katerina said, “That is right. Coaching with Julian. He is a genius.” I watched as she danced back to her own locker, singing to herself in Russian. I thought of Julian and felt a sudden pang of longing for a boyfriend and partner of my own. Men had started noticing me and I felt more attractive, more conscious of my body, but it made me lonelier too.