late night/early morning in Roppongi

I went out last night to Ebisu and Roppongi. These districts are known for rich neighborhoods and clubs that cater to foreigners.

While we were waiting to meet up with Kaz, Dan and I decided to wander around Ebisu. It started to just barely drizzle, and Dan said, "it's raining." I said, "no, it's not." We then continued to have a five-minute long debate about what "rain" is. Why do I mention this? Besides the sheer absurdity of the argument, there was a woman in front of us who kept looking back and smiling in that "oh, I know what they're saying because they're speaking in English and I'm smiling because I know their argument is ridiculous."

After we met up with Kaz, we went to a Lebanese restaurant in Ebisu for dinner. It was a pretty neat little restaurant that was depressingly empty. Our server spoke perfect English, the menu was in English (with Japanese translations below) and the other customers who showed up later also spoke English. It was a weird feeling to actually be able to understand 100% of what was going on. My Japanese is definitely improving, but I'm usually only able to get the general idea of what's going on.

Shane joined the group after dinner, and we headed out to Roppongi. This is where the night gets really strange. We met two of Kaz's friends near the station then headed toward's one of their friend's apartments. As I entered the apartment, I introduced myself to the host as the token female of the group. After walking in further, I noticed someone sitting on the couch, looking very much like a beatnik hipster complete with long hair and what seemed to be a black flower pinned to her head. Introductions flew around, and I learned that "her" name is Anthony. Whoops. Ultimately, we found ourselves at the apartment with a total group of 6 gay guys, 1 straight guy, and me. Badir, our host for the evening, kept apologizing profusely that he didn't call his friend because she was interested in hanging out, and he felt that I would be more comfortable if there was another girl present. I assured him many times that it was fine, and I was sure we'd meet up with her another time (by this point we were all having a lot of fun.)

So, we get to the club, and who do we see? The girl that Badir had been talking about all night. I'll leave out the long details of dancing in the club for 5ish hours, but I'll give you some highlights:

-best pole dancers i've seen in my life (although I have to admit I haven't seen very many). They wore shiny silver underwear and white, high-heel, knee-length boots

-a guy who looked like Boy George approached me to dance and then proceeded to spin me and dip me (imagine two people being silly at a wedding). I'm pretty sure he was drunk, since he dipped me right into someone else. My head still hurts from the collision.

-dancing between two guys, one of whom I know to be gay and the other who is presumably straight while the straight guy attempts to take off the gay guy's pants and touch him inappropriately. I believe straight guy's girlfriend found the situation hilarious.

-a number of featured dancers including a few cheerleaders, a chef, and a guy who just kept pouring water over himself.

-going to the bathroom and talking with a model from Jamaica, a Greenpeace worker from Ireland, and an Italian named Francesca. Then watching a guy and girl come into the bathroom, enter a stall, and stay there for about 5 minutes. Then he left, looking much happier, while she stuck around to beautify herself in the mirror.

-there were more guys then girls in the girls bathroom the second time I went. Enough said.

As a result of my debaucherous night, I now possess aching legs from dancing for a long time, a sore neck from sleeping on the train, a cigarette burn on my arm where a dumb drunk girl ran into me, cigarette first, and a head-full of odd memories. Now, 9:45am, is bedtime.