I’m typing all this in my room at the splendid Hotel ONE in Taichung, Taiwan. What the hell is Nightlife doing in Taichung? Well, our fierce deputy editor took the press trip to Tunisia before I could. But that’s fine because Taichung is fabulous. Well, when you’re only here for four days, I suppose. There are interesting places to go, and the people are ultra-friendly and unpretentious.
ONE’s PRs are eager to prove that Taichung is cool. Well, the hotel has certainly proved it. They have a wicked selection of Brazilian music on their channel, there’s wireless, a 37-inch LCD mon, a surround sound system (five speakers), all the other amenities of a five-star, and they gave me a Nokia for convenient communication.
I arrived on Friday, so naturally I explained to them that my priority is to check out the nightlife. After a modern French dinner on the top floor of the hotel, the PR Candy Chiang arranged for Sydney Lin, sales executive and party girl, to take me out. She highly recommended Xaga, and when we got out of the cab, the manager Tonya greeted us with eight strapping security guards in black suits. We descended down the stairs to a cavernous club. We were the oldest people in there. Everybody else seemed to be in miniskirts and university. But people were actually dancing and enjoying themselves instead of barely touching their glass of champagne like people in our city (or Shanghai) do. The moment word spread that there was an editor from Hong Kong in, a line formed to meet me. And I hadn’t even danced yet.
Hey wannabes, if you want to experience stardom, go have your ego stroked for a weekend in Taichung. I suppose this only applies if you’re Asian and proficient in Mandarin, because it seems like Taichung does not bestow gratuitous status to westerners. In fact, the hot Taiwanese girls were ignoring most of the white boys in Xaga that night.
The next day, I was taken to the Lobby. There was a huge line, and a huge sign outside listing ten rules. For instance, no shitty shoes for guys. I have absolutely no problem with policies like that. Then there’s “NO BETEL NUT CHEWING.” The last rule read, “WE DON’T OFFER DANCE FLOOR, AND FORBID DANCING.” Bitch, please. Nightlife’s got to boogie. I proposed heading over to another club, maybe the Pig Pen right next door. My bad.
Paid a cover of NT500 (HK$125) for all-you-can-drink (pour your own drinks, mind you) at the mutant child of Insomnia and Homebase. It’s like a medieval tavern in look and smell, with mid-90s decoration elements (over-the-top animal print sofas). We were like, the youngest people in there.