Did I mention?

As we anxiously await our shipment from the U.S. (it's in China somewhere going through customs), we've spent some time exploring our neighborhood. Of course, there's the Jingan Temple a few blocks up and the Avocado Lady around the corner. But did I mention that we may very well be living in the red-light district of Shanghai? Across the street are about a dozen bars with names like "Route 66," "New York Bar," and "L.A. Club Bar." (You'd think we'd feel right at home with names like that!) On our walk back to the apartment one weekday evening, we noticed about five to six girls in each bar, hanging around, or chatting up one of the few guys in the place. 

Through our fellow expats, we've heard the horror stories: foreign men (preferably older, white and wealthy) accosted by aggressive Asian women as they walk down the street. Instead of the "lady, you want bag?" at the fake markets, it's "you want massage?" for the guys on the streets of Shanghai.  

And maybe I'm exaggerating, maybe we don't live in Shanghai's red-light district (although according to this article, there are 21 red-light areas in Shanghai's central districts).  Maybe  it was just "girls' night out" when we walked home that night -- at one bar, and the one next door, and the next one after that. And maybe that purse is a real Jimmy Choo purse; maybe a massage is really just a massage. I'll let you draw your own conclusions.      

P.S. I'm lucky that my man is an Asian guy who looks more like a 20-year-old skateboarder than a wealthy businessman.