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Alright, so you wanna know about those Shanghai business KTVs, huh? Lemme tell ya, it’s a whole different beast. My “practice” in these places wasn’t exactly about hitting the high notes, if you catch my drift. It was more like an endurance sport mixed with some weird social experiment.
So, the first time I got dragged into one, I was pretty green. Boss says, “Important clients, gotta show ’em a good time.” Right. I thought, okay, sing a few songs, have a drink, talk shop. Easy peasy. Boy, was I wrong.
The Grand Entrance and the Initial Shock
We pull up to this place, all flashy lights and doormen who look like they could bench press a small car. Walked in, and it’s like stepping onto a movie set for some gangster flick, but with more gold trim. Marble everywhere, chandeliers bigger than my apartment. My first “step” in the “process” was just trying not to look like a country bumpkin.
Then they lead us to this private room. Huge. Massive TV screen, plush sofas that you sink into and might never escape from. And then the “hostesses” started filterin’ in. That was a bit of a surprise, not gonna lie. Suddenly, the “business” part felt a whole lot less about spreadsheets.
The “Practice” Begins: Toasts, Dice, and Endless Fruit Platters
The actual “practice” for me was tryin’ to keep up. First, the drinks. Oh man, the drinks. It was like, every five minutes, someone’s proposing a toast. To health, to friendship, to the deal, to the guy who poured the drink. My liver was workin’ overtime from the get-go. I quickly learned to “practice” pacing myself, or I’d be under the table before any real talk happened.
Then came the dice games. Liar’s Dice, mostly. I had no clue. Just fumbled through it, trying to read faces, mostly losing. The clients seemed to love it, though. Guess it’s part of the ritual, breaking the ice, or sizing each other up. The “record” of my wins versus losses was pretty dismal.
- Observation 1: The singing is secondary. Like, way secondary. Someone might belt out a tune, but mostly it’s background noise.
- Observation 2: The fruit platters are insane. Mountains of fruit, carved into fancy shapes. Nobody really eats much of it.
- Observation 3: It’s all about face. Making the client feel important, making your boss look good.
My “detailed process” involved a lot of smiling, nodding, and trying to steer the conversation towards actual business when there was a lull in the karaoke or the dice shaking. It’s a delicate dance, man. You don’t wanna be the stiff who’s all work, but you also don’t wanna look like you’re just there to party too hard.
The Realization: It’s Not About the KTV
After a few of these “sessions,” I kinda figured it out. The KTV itself? The singing, the fancy rooms? That’s just the stage. The real show is the relationship building, the unspoken agreements, the testing of limits. It’s like, they wanna see if you can hang, if you’re “one of them.”
I remember this one time, we were trying to close this big deal. Hours in this smoky room, endless choruses of some pop song I’d never heard. The client, this older fella, barely said a word about the contract. Just kept refilling my glass. Then, right at the end, as we’re all staggering out, he slaps me on the back and says, “Okay, you’re good. We sign tomorrow.” I swear, no actual business was discussed for like, three hours straight. My “practice” of just surviving the night seemed to pay off more than any PowerPoint presentation I could have given.
So yeah, that’s my “record” of those Shanghai business KTVs. It ain’t always pretty, and it sure ain’t about vocal talent. It’s a weird, expensive, and sometimes exhausting part of the game over there. You just gotta learn the rules and try to keep your head above water… and the booze.
