A night out in the 'Bad

My roommates were away this weekend so I hung out with my friend Kiba.

Saturday we went for a late lunch at a Chinese restaurant. Although he said it was one of his favorite places, he complained about the food endlessly since we were sharing and therefore ordered only veg (my friend is an avid meat eater and often refuses to come to our house for dinner unless we order out and get him some non veg. I thought the restaurant was good). We left and got his car, which was parked on a small street nearby the restaurant. As we drove up the small street and turned onto the main road, we remained seatbeltless. Now, I would like to state here, that I am an avid seatbelt wearer. Back home I have been known to fight with friends who don't want to wear seatbelts, refusing to drive them anywhere unless they wear one. In fact, on the way to the Chinese restaurant, I not only wore my seatbelt but told Kiba, who was driving, to buckle his seatbelt.

Maybe it was because I've lived in India so long and there are no seatbelts in autorikshaws or on busses, which constitute 95% of my transportation. Or maybe it was because we hadn't really started moving fast, or that I was playing with Iphone.. In any case, neither of us had our seatbelts on when we turned left onto the main road - and were immediately waved over by a cop on foot. Through the open window, he told my friend he owed a Rs500 fine. My friend argued with him and begged him to let him off without a fine. The officer went to the back of the car, presumably to write down the license plate number on the ticket. My friend said to me, “he just wants a bribe.” He got out of the car clutching his wallet, and walked to the back of the car where the officer stood. I remained in the passenger seat, and tilted the rear view mirror so I could watch the action. Through the back windshield, I could see only their hands. The officer held his pen, unmoving, against the pad of tickets, as my friend opened and closed his wallet multiple times in between "come on" palms up hand gestures. I watched in awe as, after about 40 seconds, the officer returned an upwards palm hand gesture, which turned into his thumb closing on the money my friend slipped into his hand. My friend jumped back in the car, and after fastening our seatbelts and driving away, he told me that the conversation which I watched the hand movements of went something like this:

Cop: The fine is Rs500.
Kiba: I don't have Rs500.
Cop: So.. what do you want to do about it?
*a bit more wallet closing and opening*
Kiba: Take this, sir.
*Kiba hands the cop a 100 rupee note*
Cop: I don't have change...

***

In the evening, we went to a snazzy club called Zouks. It had four clumps of red fuzzy chairs with extremely tall backs that look straight out of the Star Trek Enterprise, and open floor for dancing. The cover charge for men was Rs1500 (nearly $40), which goes towards drinks and food. However food and drinks are extremely expensive at a place like Zouks, equal or perhaps more expensive than the equivalent in the USA (for example, drinks at Ahala, another snazzy club, cost between $11-14). There is no charge for women, of course, because clubs in India never charge women an entry fee; in fact "ladies night", which in the USA would mean free or discounted entry for women that night, in India actually means "free drinks for women" between specified hours (whereas men attending ladies nights are hit with Rs1000/$25 cover charges, owing to the fact that there will be many women there drunk on free alcohol).

The club closed at 12:30am, despite the club being full and it being a Saturday night. We drove in his car and pulled over outside a closed cafe. Before we had even stopped, a man ran up to the window on my side and shouted something in Telugu. My friend said he wanted 4 romali rolls, paneer butter masala, and some kind of chicken dish. The man pointed ahead and left. We drove up past the closed cafe and parked outside the gas station. Another man came over and collected the money, and soon the first man came over with our order packed to go.

"See," my friend explained, "the restaurant can't be open this late. But in India, we always find a way around this." In other words, the restaurant was still open, but instead of having people inside to dine it had runners doing takeout orders to cars. We were told to park up at the gas station so as not to look suspicious.

We drove away, and stopped outside another area to wait for friends following in a car behind us. As we waited, three different men came up to my window, one asking about food, one wielding a packet of cigarettes, and I was not sure what the third one was selling. Pharmacies also stay open, keeping their holed gates closed so no one steals from them, but allowing customers to talk face-to-face with the employees and exchange money for items all through the night.