Manhole
So the other night I was out, showing my liver how much I hate him, and I was in the expected state of blissful inebriation. Richard and I were walking down the street, going from one place to another (understandably I don’t remember the specifics) when somehow, through my alcoholic haze, I noticed that he was about to step into an open manhole cover. I pulled him out of the way right as he was about to step in it. This, of course, made the two of us grumble about the “fucking Chinese” and their slapdash safety standards. There wasn’t a blinking light or a cone or a piece of tape or anything, just an open manhole in the dark where anyone could fall into it.
I went to work the other day and relayed this anecdote to my employees, who told me an interesting tale. It seems that often times the peasants from the countryside will come in to Beijing and go out stealing manhole covers, which they then take back to their villages, melt down, and sell the steel. So far from it being half-assed Chinese safety standards, it was some asshole and his friends out stealing manhole covers.
