Kublai Khan here. Yep that's right, the emperor, the boss, the big enchilada. Anyway, I'm not here to bang on about my subjugation of southern China, my iron fist methods of negotiation or that unfinished poem that some English stoner wrote about me.

Nope, today I want to talk bars, the kind of bars where a bearded guy in leathers can knock back a few brews after a torrid day of archery, annexation or oily mano en mano wrestling.

When me and my buddies put our heads together about opening up a watering hole fit for a divine ruler, we made a list of what gives an alehouse its raison d'etre (a little expression I picked up on my travels).

All my gang are big friends of that show Cheers, you know the one where every time thefat guy walks in they all yell out "Norm" at the same time (Shelley Long was a far better foil to Ted Danson in my opinion). Anyway, having everybody in the bar know your name was hands down the most popular suggestion on our wish list.

Just say that you just had an argument with your lady friend over, I don't know, the most suitable side dishes to accompany roast boar, or whatever, and you want to let off some steam.

Wouldn't it be cool to go to a place where the regulars all hollered your name out in unison? Even at my lowest - like during my aborted push into Japan - it was reassuring to know that my subjects would have a cold beer waiting for me along with a funny story to lift my spirits.

So, nailing the vibe of the place was a cinch and I thought we were going to have this thing nutted out in no time, but what about the dcor?

Don't get me started about the barneys our little think tank had over dcor. Talking about throw pillows and hip-hop chic versus electronic ambience gave me more of a headache than my late 13th century efforts of getting the Song emperor to capitulate. I mean, I'm more of a minimalist, chrome and wood paneling kind of fella but a few of my friends feel intimidated by the starkness of modern design.

There was only one solution: let's make a whole street of bars where folks can switch between a casual beer at a faux-dive to sipping on a pink squirrel among elegant furnishings with a non intrusive lounge house soundtrack.

"So are we cool now, homies?" I asked my fellow delegates. They all nodded sheepishly; in fact I think a few of them were a little bit embarrassed about kicking up such a stink. Still, there were other things to discuss.

"Let's not start slam dancing just yet fellas," I said. "I mean, I don't want to be Captain Obvious here but Beijing is going pretty development bonkers at the moment so finding a spare street where people can let their hair down might be a trifle difficult."

"Hey, Kublai," my buddy Shredder (that's his English name) said. "What about that little canal next to the old Yuan Dynasty city wall in Chaoyang you built?"

Good idea, I thought and even though it's a little on the nose when it heats up the booze should be enough to distract the punters. And it's a nice touch, you know, to make a place for everyone to shake their booties in the same spot that fortifications use to be.

Yep, these days I'm fighting for your right to P-A-R-T-Y.

Contact the author at kublaimeister@gmail.com.

(China Daily 03/28/2007 page15)