Ann's House
Last Night in Japan, Part Two.
Ironically, I had promised this Japanese guy that I wouldn't forget his name -- but I have. I believe it was Satoshi, though I am not certain.
Needless to say, at this point, I had continued drinking.
Before I knew it, the middle of the night had approached us. I had karaoked Blur's "Song 2" with some very enthusiastic English-teacher friends of Ramon. The owner of the bar, whose name I can't believe I have forgotten, was locking it up. But not kicking anyone out. I was still wide awake after the bizarre events that had begun at Joyfull while nervously awaiting my change to meet George.
This man deserves some mention. He's apparently some kind of rasta or something. He runs a bar, which he apparently named after the fact that his mother or someone like that was very fond of Anne of Green Gables.
We all began a jam session on bongos while I was educated to Japanese reggae. It was very, very surreal. I doubt a similar situation Stateside would have been so welcoming. The sun was coming up. People had to work. We eventually called it off. I said farewell.
For some reason I still couldn't go back to Ramon's. And I had already burned through that whole pack of cigarettes that I had picked up in Tokyo (don't ask me how). Ramon lives around the corner from a 24-hour grocery store, so I picked up another beer (shaddup!), some "melon pan" (which I miss dearly). I ambled like a circumnabulatory monk.
Needless to say, I arrived home a bit drunk, reeking of tobacco, and in one very, very odd frame of mind.
I managed to sleep for about three hours before being snapped, full of obloquy, back to the real world.
Ironically, I had promised this Japanese guy that I wouldn't forget his name -- but I have. I believe it was Satoshi, though I am not certain.
Needless to say, at this point, I had continued drinking.
Before I knew it, the middle of the night had approached us. I had karaoked Blur's "Song 2" with some very enthusiastic English-teacher friends of Ramon. The owner of the bar, whose name I can't believe I have forgotten, was locking it up. But not kicking anyone out. I was still wide awake after the bizarre events that had begun at Joyfull while nervously awaiting my change to meet George.
This man deserves some mention. He's apparently some kind of rasta or something. He runs a bar, which he apparently named after the fact that his mother or someone like that was very fond of Anne of Green Gables.
After hours.
We all began a jam session on bongos while I was educated to Japanese reggae. It was very, very surreal. I doubt a similar situation Stateside would have been so welcoming. The sun was coming up. People had to work. We eventually called it off. I said farewell.
For some reason I still couldn't go back to Ramon's. And I had already burned through that whole pack of cigarettes that I had picked up in Tokyo (don't ask me how). Ramon lives around the corner from a 24-hour grocery store, so I picked up another beer (shaddup!), some "melon pan" (which I miss dearly). I ambled like a circumnabulatory monk.
Need I return so soon?
My feet may fuse to the ground.
The demon's gate.
Needless to say, I arrived home a bit drunk, reeking of tobacco, and in one very, very odd frame of mind.
I managed to sleep for about three hours before being snapped, full of obloquy, back to the real world.
