nude highway driving

One beer my ass.

My first full day of work here Thursday seemed like it was going to be easy after I bounded out of bed at 5 a.m., but quickly turned rough when the 2 p.m. crash began to settle in. I spent almost an hour staring at the same story on the screen, exhausted and groggy but with a wicked pulse. I was convinced I was going to die right there in a crappy-ass office chair with a glazed look in my eyes and perhaps some drool decorating my chin.

Despite this jet lag pain, I decided to go out to dinner with a bunch of managers after work. We hit Tengu — named after mythical beings with penis noses — a groovy little place where you sit at a big table and order tons of little dishes that everyone shares (as well as a few big pitchers of beer that everyone shares). Thanks to either the beer or the jet lag (or the cow tongue, followed by a nice glass of seaweed) I got a second wind just in time for someone to suggest we keep the action going at a fine Roppongi drinking establishment. Cool — no problem.

Then my coworker said: “We’ll go to Gaspanic for one beer.”

This was a blatant lie. Nobody ever gets out of Gaspanic after only one beer. Every time I come to Tokyo, I tell this coworker he won’t drag me to Gaspanic. And every time I end up there drinking all night.

Gaspanic is a special place where the beers are only 400 yen (about $4, less than half the cost of a beer at most Tokyo bars) and annoying Americans (usually military) are out in full force, trying to hook up with the Japanese girls who come there to meet Americans. Signs everywhere kindly remind you that you must be drinking something at all times to be allowed to stay in the club, and the bouncers check. The bouncers aren’t all that intimidating to look at, but they all have the skills to plant a foot in your head before you even see them spin. Around midnight people start dancing on bartops. Going there is kinda like going to a frat party — you don’t want to admit it, but you actually have a fun time, even though now that you’ve done it you probably won’t go back because it still is the lowest common denominator.

Yeah, we went there for one beer. I think I got home around 2:45 after several bottles of Asahi and a few shots from little plastic shot glasses on strings. I saw one coworker arm-wrestle a few of the bouncers and another slump over the bar, licking his coat. It was a new kind of work bonding.

Walking home from Roppongi is kinda like playing tag, only there are about 20 people who are “it” and they’re all Chinese girls in big coats asking you if you want “massagee.” Not massage, massagee. The extra vowel is important because it makes you think you’re a young soldier boy back in ‘Nam looking for someone to love you long time. For the most part they keep to the secret code, though that night I had one walk up to me and say “Blowjob, five dollars.” What??? “Blowjob, five dollars.” This is wrong on a couple levels:

1) You’re supposed to keep to the code. It’s entertaining when someone’s asking you if you want massagee and gives you that knowing smile. Even though you walk away, you have this secret connection that the lesser tourists don’t understand. Many clueless people wander around Roppongi thinking that massage therapists are just really aggressive in Japan.

2) Five dollars? What are you, nuts? I would never give a blowjob for five bucks, and neither should Chinese girls in big coats. There are drunk-ass stupid Americans all over the place at night, and you can easily get them to fork over $50. Everyone knows everything’s more expensive in Tokyo. C’mon — be proud of your oraltory skills. You offer that service for $5 and the discerning customer is going to think you’re a guy.

I made it home alive, sans massagee, and crawled into bed for my four and a half hours of quality sleep. The reason Bill Murray is so brilliant in “Lost in Translation” is because that fuzzy fog of consciousness he depicts is so very real when you first come here. He didn’t even have to act — they just flew him to Tokyo and let him wander around and try to do his lines without any direction. They had to film the whole thing in the first few days or he’d eventually snap out of it and be a regular person. I don’t think I’ll become a regular person.