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[My Weekender]: Donnie

He's the Wonton Don. He does China on the Youtube. Tonight he's doing the Weekender on the SmartShanghai. Wicked Pissah!
Last updated: 2015-11-09
It's Donnie. That's really all you need to know. Isn't it?

Hey, how ah ya Shanghairen? I’m Donald Mahoney AKA The Wonton Don, self-described Internet celebrity, Roger Federer impersonator and avid goose lover. I guess you could say I’m a man of many hats but very little actual clothing, which is why I’m mainly seen around town wearing either a Boston Celtics Jersey or a Suisey™. While I’m normally quite the social moth during the weekends, I just got back from a three-week spiritual retreat on my Ayi’s farm in rural China and I swear on my mother’s life I found enlightenment in the woods by her lake (It’s a long story that’s succinctly wrapped up in two Youtube videos so check 'em out. #SHAMELESSPLUG.) Well anyways, now that I’m enlightened my weekends will probably be filled with boring shit like meditating and playing mahjong, so I’ll just give you a taste of my typical pre-enlightenment weekends, at least the version safe enough for the uncorrupted virgin eyes of study-abroad kids.

Friday morning I’ll typically wake up around 2pm and head directly to my production offices AKA “The Sweat Shop”. Its not actually a sweat shop, but its definitely a small room filled with a bunch of people sweating while working for far below minimum wages, so I thought I’d be funny to give it a cute nickname. I’ll stay just long enough to quickly check if I look handsome enough in all the shots and bark out some threatening nonsensical orders to make sure my video editors — who are definitely old enough to be employed — stay on their toes. Next, its off to the fabric market to get production started on the third generation of my passion project, The Suisey™, it’s a sports jersey/suit jacket combo that I think could potentially revolutionize men’s fashion.

By the time I leave the fabric market it's probably 5PM, time to get back on the booze and grab some grub. After crushing about six Harbies, two Fantas and some Jinjiu on the Family Mart steps, I’ll head into Morton’s happy hour, where they offer free steak sandwiches and 50rmb martinis. Once there, I strategically pretend I’m washing my hands in the bathroom. Whenever the sandwich platters come out I head out to the bar and grab six, then head back into the bathroom. REPEAT UNTIL FULL. This way I enjoy world-class steak without ever having to pay for a Martini. As I get ready to leave, my Wechat usually starts blowing up with promoters promising me free drinks all night if I say their name at [insert generic Chinese club name]. Its a wicked good deal on paper but unfortunately the buzz you get from drinking the fake alcohol they serve at those places just makes you crave McDonalds like crack, lose all motor function, and feel like shit for the next 48 hrs. I’LL PASS…just kidding, by the 4th or 5th time someone asks I give in and get absolutely fuckin' tanked.

Now for Saturdays…ahh good old Saturdays. To be honest with you, I’m not entirely sure what I’ve done during Saturday for at least the past year. Its a complete blank slate. All I know is that I normally wake up the next day between 7-10AM on the couches of Amber lounge, feeling extremely refreshed(read: still drunk), ready to make Sunday my bitch.

First thing I’ll do Sunday is hit up La Boulangerie on Yongkang Lu for lunch where I’ll use all the money I saved drinking free fake alcohol Friday night to buy me a 30rmb half Parma ham/half salami Sandwich on a Ciabatta w/ veggies, mayo, and mustard. HOLY TITS these things are delicious. The French really know how to do bakeries (side note: I’ve never actually seen a French employee working here). After a few Brooklyn IPA’s at Dean’s Bottle Shop it's off to Perry’s on Huaihai Lu for FREE CIGARETTE SUNDAYS!!! (this actually exists) where I’ll puff at least three packs while telling all the high school expat kids in the bar about my glory days as the star defensive end of my JV football team. Finally, it’s off to another bar for one last weekend drink to cure the Sunday Scaries. I usually chose Manhattan as according to every unmarried creepy 50-year-old laowai in town, they serve the freshest bottle of San Miguel in the city.

Wow. Now that I see it on my paper my past weekends were pretty legit. This whole “enlightened” phase I’m going through may have to be put on the back burner. Zai Jian. DONNIE OUT.

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