KTV Blackout

It's been two months since I've made a post!? I blame work and finals. Now that both are finished, I finally have two weeks to do whatever (else) I want! Actually, I meant to post this yesterday, but the internet crapped out.

To celebrate the end of finals, Z and I went to sing KTV this afternoon. One of the most famous KTV chains, ATT, has a newly remodeled branch not far from my apartment. ATT is also known for having the best selection of foreign songs (including one song from Radiohead, who are banned in China). At the entrance, a tall young man in a white dress shirt bows as you go in. Then you ascend one of two curved staircases into what looks like a low-ceilinged hotel lobby, everything in off-white marble. The all-young staff in black waistcoats help you figure out which room to order, or you can sit in the chilly waiting room and watch news on a little TV desk.

Like some less reputable hotels, KTVs rent out rooms by the hour. There are usually half a dozen different room sizes for different prices. The price also varies depending on the time, with evenings and weekends being more expensive. Since there were only two of us, the right size would have been a "mini" room, but they only had small rooms, which fit up to five people. The hourly price for the room on a weekday afternoon would have been 36 kuai (about $5), but there was also a special: we could pay 36 kuai per person and get a room for four hours, and they would bring us dinner, a fruit plate, and popcorn.

KTV rooms are small and windowless. The essential features are a leather couch that circles around three sides of the room, a big-screen TV, and a big coffee table with a giant ashtray. And of course the touch-screen computer for choosing songs. When you sing for four hours, you have to pace yourself. Early on I made the mistake of trying to sing two Nirvana songs and half my vocal range went mute. Bohemian Rhapsody would have to wait.

Exactly two hours in, when we were almost finished with The Sound of Silence, everything suddenly went black. It was also completely quiet, and for a few seconds I was disoriented. Then I could hear people walking in the hallway outside, and a vested employee came in with two bento boxes, two bowls of soup, and chopsticks. In the dark, he set them down on the table, and asked if we wanted a candle. I asked him what time he thought the power would come back and he said he didn't know.

For a while we sat in the dark room, eating by cell phone light. The food wasn't bad for something from a karaoke house. The employee eventually came back with a candle. When we were finished eating, there was still no sign of returning electricity, so we went outside. No sooner had the room door closed than four employees intercepted us to apologize about the sudden darkness. Z asked them if we could have a refund, and they agreed to give us half our money back--36 kuai. Z pretended to be mildly satisfied, but really we were both glad, having half-expected them to refuse any kind of refund ("it wasn't out fault"; "you already ate the food"; or simply "we don't do refunds").

At the end of the hallway, a group of middle-aged women were arguing with another employee. We left, and this time the doorman had four companions, and they all bowed and thanked us for coming. Next door at the Trust-Mart supermarket, a crowd was standing around the entrance, looking vaguely in the direction of the darkened bag check room. Apparently the whole block had lost power, which meant that the customers at Trust-Mart wouldn't be able to retrieve their bags from the newly installed electronic cubbies. I wondered how many people would have to cancel whatever plans they had because they were stuck at Trust-Mart, waiting for their stuff. And then about the mad rush that would ensue when the power finally went back on.