nude highway driving

My Friday night began cute enough — with tiny little puppies in display cases with their own little leather couches on which to lounge (or play). My coworker and I were headed for dinner in Roppongi and we stumbled upon this little guy and some of his friends at the dog store. The place specializes in the super-small dogs that are humongously popular here in Tokyo. There’s one kind of poodle (I think) that looks like a stuffed bear. I think this guy has more character. He barked until the shop dude took him out and gave him some scratches. I really wanted to take him (the dog) home. This dog is worthy of pets and loves. This dog deserves a wonderful home. This dog costs $5,000. This dog can wait for a nice, rich Japanese person’s home.

After dinner at some Tahiti-themed place and failed attempts at finding anybody exciting at a couple other bars, my coworker and I ended up at Mogambo, a nefarious shot bar from which I’ve emerged at dawn before. “Hogwash” was the shot of the week. Mogambo and its sister bar, the used-to-be-fun Geronimo, can be wonderful if your timing’s right. Mogambo has a bell and Geronimo has a drum. If you ring the bell or beat the drum, you are signifying that you will buy everyone in the bar a shot. Usually people pick the shot of the week. I eventually got three free shots of Hogwash at Mogambo. My coworker got hit on by part of a Rugby team. I tried to get her to arm-wrestle the Vin Diesel look-alike, but to no avail.

We also ran into a Taiwanese travel agent friend I met last year (at the same bar) and hadn’t seen since. I think everyone I’ve ever met in this bar has been from some country other than Japan. Soon after this I walked my coworker home, around 1:30 a.m., and had one of those thoughts like “I really should go to bed myself.” But shot logic said “Hey, you’re not tired. Go back out!”

And it’s a good thing I did. Because I met my first viking. Well, he was a big, drunk Norwegian guy, but he stood mighty like the vikings of yore and claimed that deep down we are all full of the vikings’ blood. He also said I was going to be president of the United States. And he bought me beers that I didn’t drink, then would think they were his and drink them. After long chugs of the Corona he would slam down his bottle and let out a barbaric yawlp like I’ve never heard. You know how heavy metal guys do that “ahhhhhhh” thing where their voices waver? It was like that, though not a high voice. A deep, but not bass, voice — and he would hold that sound for quite a while. It permeated the bar. I felt like I was going into battle against the Visigoths. Each time he did it the other bar patrons would clap. I briefly considered asking him to do the Spam chant, but he was freakin’ huge and I didn’t want him to turn.

I stayed out way too late and got home at sunrise. Of course, the sun comes up at 4 a.m. here, which really messes with my head. I also got up way too late but made it over to Ueno for some yummy kaiten sushi (sushi on a conveyor belt). It’s the perfect way to start a day.