NOMIHODAI, ROPPONGI, THE TIP OF A CIGARETTE ON A SHELTERED CHEEK AND THE TRUE MEANING OF MCDONALD’S
January 6th 2009 04:44
It took me over a day to figure out that this guy we’d been hanging out with, Takkun, only had one hand. Trevor pointed it out to me. He asked me, so what do you think about Takkun having one hand? All this time, I hadn’t noticed. I was supposed to be a writer and I hadn’t even bothered observing my own friend. We were in McDonald’s, drinking Asahi beer purchased from a vending machine nearby, talking about Thelonious Monk, about how I want to buy a record player and listen to jazz music because I’d never really given it a chance before. Trevor told me that he preferred Thelonious Monk over Bill Evans, because Bill Evans is apparently too predictable. I didn’t care.
I looked at my mega burger. Because of the exchange rate, McDonald’s in Japan is actually more expensive than McDonald’s in Australia. Further, McDonald’s (and KFC’s) meals are actually much more expensive than “common” food in Japan. Funny, that. We left the building and shifted our way past the endless streams of fashionable people and headed for a famous dog statue in Shibuya to meet our friend. Trevor was right. Takkun did only have the one hand. Not that it mattered.
Takkun is a rather tall Japanese guy who’d spent a lot of his life in Australia. He has wild, high spiky brown hair and three piercings in one of his ears. He often hides his other arm underneath his jacket.
Now, he told us, I want to introduce you to nomihodai. Nomihodai is the process where, for a small price, you are able to drink unlimited alcohol (beers, spirits and cocktails) for two hours or more.
After the most insane two hours of our lives we caught a train to Roppongi, apparently the biggest nightlife district in Japan and what some people label as the greatest nightlife district in the world. We were intoxicated and everything looked hazy. There were foreigners everywhere. Nigerians ruled the district; according to Takkun, ever since the Chinese mafia were cleared out of Japan the Nigerians rushed in and took over. They walked around, putting their hands on people’s shoulders, persuading them to enter their clubs. We found ourselves going downstairs into a tiny room with an entrance covered by curtains. A man yelled at us when we tried to enter. YOU CAN’T COME IN IF YOU DON’T BUY A FUCKING DRINK! We left.
We went around, bar after bar, club after club; the deeper we fell, the more girls we met, the more we drank, things like reality slowly peeled away, memories and ideals and what I could feel with my hands – it all peeled away, layer after layer until we were nothing but the stupid somethings that were once hidden underneath. In a stereo somewhere, Kanye West muttered, I'm the only thing I'm afraid of.
We stumbled out of a club and I vaguely remembered Takkun telling me not to sit next to a bunch of guys in black suits and angry looking faces, he said something about gangsters, but I ignored him. My drunken legs lead the way and sat me right next to a guy who was smoking. He had a lot of rings. I slurred, Hey… I’m trying to quit… but can I have a cigarette anyway? He yelled something at me and pushed the tip of his cigarette into my cheek; he drilled it in with as much force as possible. I screamed. Takkun yelled, Run! Trevor leant over, picked me up and dragged me and I found myself running with them, we were running for our lives.
You fucking idiot, Dean!
We kept running until we couldn’t breathe anymore. We turned around: no one was following us. We leant against a wall. Takkun lost a shoe. I touched my cheek. There was something truly wrong with me, with my soul, but it wouldn’t be for a while until I figured out how to cure it. It was well past one in the morning; there were no more trains. We saw a twenty-four hour McDonald’s in the distance and headed towards it.
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Comment by Brenton
Dr Spin
Tales From The Other Side
Blip Blog
Gadget Museum
On my first week i wa dancing in a club with Yakuza gangsters. They don't mess with you if you don't mess with them, at least in my experience.
BTW, if you get a taste for Karaoke booths at all (like me) ttheres a newish one beside the Fortitude Valley Station.
Comment by Always Eighteen
Always Eighteen
Did you meet any hosts? I'll be writing about them shortly...