The party was very nice. I got to introduce myself to some of Saito-san's friends. (As a matter of fact, I was actually introduced by Saito-san to the store manager of the same York Benimaru that I went to on Friday night. Small world, isn't it?) The guy who sat next to me drives an R35 GT-R as his daily, a car which I have openly lusted after for a very long time. (His observation: it's really fast!) There was a whole spread of food available, including fried chicken, pizza, motsunabe (a hot pot with pig's intestines, tofu, and vegetables), and a giant bottle of sake brought in by another partygoer. And this doesn't even include the giant boat of fish that the shop owner carried in halfway through dinner. Also part of the evening's activities was a game of bingo, where there were a bunch of prizes and vouchers from Saito-san and his partners' businesses. I won a discounted oil change at Saito-san's shop. Perfect for the spring time when it's time to switch back to summer oil.
 |
| Now that's dedication to the craft! |
Afterwards, it was time for the afterparty. Some of the partygoers went home, while the rest of us went to the bar on foot. I got the chance to walk through the concentrated, nightlife-oriented part of the city, which to me has a certain Tokyo-like feel to it. Saito-san told me that some of the bars in this area were among the best in the country. He even pointed out one to avoid: a grey, post-modernist building that actually had mob ties to it. (This is probably some important information to know in the future.)
 |
| Most, if not all of these, are snack bars. |
We arrived at the snack bar, a small room on the third floor of a building that seemed almost entirely dedicated to them. A snack bar, for those of you who don't know what it is, is a rather small place where matrons serve alcohol to customers. This place also had a karaoke machine, and I was amazed at the amount of songs available in English, especially by the band that I knew about. In fact, thanks to some Liquid Courage (TM), I actually went up for four songs. As it turns out, I am especially not a good singer when I'm drunk. But what was especially hilarious to me about the karaoke was the B-roll used for the lyrics. I could tell it was from the 90s, mainly because of the cars, and the fashion. Among the various cars spotted were a C4 Corvette, a Porsche Boxster convertible, and a Jeep Wrangler. It had that low budget, stereotypical feeling of 90s Japan, and I loved it.
 |
| Import crusing is serious business. |
I wish that I could end this post here. I also wish that I had listened to that little voice in my head that said "okay, that's enough liquor for tonight." Unfortunately, I can't do either. Maybe if I had avoided drinking at the afterparty (it was a few rather tall glasses of whiskey), I probably would've made it home relatively intact. Things started getting bad when my taxi-hailing app said that there was a delay for nearby taxis. I had the person next to me call the taxi dispatch; the taxi would not be coming for another 40 (!) minutes. I ended up starting to fall asleep while waiting for the taxi. Then someone brought over a plastic bag, and that's when my body decided to take the hint. Needless to say, I had to be carried downstairs and into the taxi, which was finally waiting outside.
And then, I had to be carried back out of it.
I don't know exactly why I was taken out of the taxi. Maybe it was because I was too drunk to give directions. Maybe it was because Saito-san was too worried letting me go home by myself. Either way, I was now lying face down on the sidewalk, in front of a snack bar building in northern Japan in December, with a bag in front of my face catching my vomit, unable to even open my eyes to see. Talk about being outside of your comfort zone. The police were apparently called, and I knew the second I heard the word 「救急車」 (ambulance) that my evening was not going to end so well.
With Saito-san and two other friends in tow, I was rushed to Takeda General Hospital, and then discharged in about an hour. My friends helped carry me into my room in Somei House, and I ended up spending my Sunday sleeping and chucking unprocessed liquor. It wasn't until this morning, actually, that I'd managed to actually hold down food. Even now, as I'm typing this, I still feel rather exhausted. Hopefully by the time I get up for work tomorrow, I'll be somewhat better.
So, William, what did we learn? Well, this is the second time I've ever actually been drunk in my life. The first time I got drunk resulted in something similar, except there was no hospital visit involved. This time, however, I had that little voice in my head telling me to stop. And now, I will listen to it from here on out. I hear that young people recover from hangovers faster. Which means that if two days is fast for a hangover, I shudder at what's going to happen when I turn 40. All the more reason to get my shit together.
But seriously, I don't know what would've happened if Saito-san was not there for me that night. Despite us having a limited grasp of each other's languages, this guy not only invited me to his party and had the shop owner prepare a separate dish for me due to my aversion to fish, he actually went in the ambulance with me and carried me a good portion of the way. It's people like him, even in this fucked up world, that I am thankful for. (Actually, I didn't celebrate Thanksgiving this year. Guess I don't need a holiday to be thankful.)
And with that, thankfully, it's back to the grind.
-wp
No comments:
Post a Comment