Results tagged “shoptalk”

It finally happened. Sometime between the early evening last night and this afternoon, Shanghaiist's bicycle was stolen. Yes, it was locked. Twice. And no, we did not bring it into our apartment, to the collective shock and incredulity of our landlord and the retired woman that minds the front entrance of our apartment block. Shanghaiist had naively believed that the four flights of stairs we schlepped the thing every time we used it (almost daily) would be enough to deter what few opportunists found their way into our building in a “safe” part of town. But ultimately, one of the immutable truths of Shanghai life prevailed. Your bike WILL get stolen.

Sideways on Xinle Lu

Shanghai, by and large, is a city of hype. Shanghaiist has and will continue to contribute to it, propping up events, holding out hope for free beer, and generally trying to see the good in the sometimes random governmental edicts. But the weary wait for someone, anyone, to open a real western book store -- with books and maybe even magazines -- has taken its toll. But now, Chaterhouse Booktrader has us hooked. The location, under Times Square down on Huaihai Zhong Lu (in the basement) is OK. The prices, well, they're best described as "airport." But the selection? Oh, the selection. PC Gamer magazine sits next to Xbox Live next to Playstation Monthly. If that's not your thing, they have car, gun and fashion mags -- and books, too ... in previously non-existant (in Shanghai) categories like Science Fiction. Yes, it might all be a dream. Yes, they're from Hong Kong. Yes, go. Right now. Before someone wakes up and realizes what's going on here. Because if someone realizes that what people want is selection, whatever will the market do?

Bikes get stolen in Shanghai. Sure, they go missing in New York, or Seattle, but Shanghai seems to have less respect for the lock than most metropoli. When our cute orange folding bike turned up missing last week, Shanghaiist went a bit crazy. While many bike theft victims purchase progressively cheaper bikes, following the theory that "this one's so garbage no one could possibly want it," we went the opposite direction. Walking past Speed Cat Bicycle (site in Chinese) every day might have been the reason. In a tiny little shop that would be comfortable in any US college town, Speed Cat is instantly recognizable by the pile of half-assembled frames outside.