Along with him came his beautiful and hilarious girlfriend Jillian and long time friend Peter, who had spent about two weeks in Japan by the time I met him and was more than ready to find his way back to the comforts of America.
We set out at about lunch time. Jillian, Peter, and Dax were tired from a restless night’s sleep on the hard wood floor of our tiny Tokyo apartment. At that point we were sleeping five people in an apartment designed for one. Jonathan was working, but we met him for lunch at our favorite Ramen shop not far from the embassy. You haven’t had Ramen noodles until you have eaten them in Japan. It’s now my favorite food. I’ll try to recreate it when I am back in America.
After a hardy lunch, we visited a nearby shrine and began our short walk towards the train station. On our way we passed a small and very trendy eyeglasses shop filled with the latest and greatest of Japanese eyeglass fashion. Jillian, whose dad is Chinese, was intrigued with both the pretty glasses and the promise of frames that would fit Asian faces. We spent about an hour and a half looking at glasses, trying them on, and stumbling to communicate with the sales associates. Luckily Jonathan stuck around to translate for us, but even then, the technical language made it difficult for anyone to understand what was going on. Dax drew several detailed illustrations to try to get his point across. The sales associate would just giggle with her hand covering her mouth. We found out that glasses do not require a prescription in Japan, and so the workers could not only fit the frames, but could diagnose eyes and shape the lenses for the glasses as well. It was all very unconventional and cheap (less than $100 for a complete pair of fashionable glasses) compared to the American version of the experience. There was lots of pointing, going outside and looking at buildings, a couple of warnings about the glass not being shatterproof, and lots of laughs involved. When Dax and Jillian purchased 4 pairs of glasses between them, the sales lady was elated and very, very, grateful as was demonstrated by her high-pitched thank you’s and very deep bows.
Just little drawing explaing that Dax has problems seeing at dusk.
With the eyeglasses shopping done, we set off to Shibuya, the home of the busiest crosswalk in the world. Jillian described the experience as the craziest game of “Chicken” on earth. Literally tens of thousands of people cross the street at a time. When the walk sign turns green, you find yourself colliding head-on with a sea of people who, just like you, want to get to the other side of the street as soon as possible. It is a chaotic mess that we experienced too many time during our trip to the area (we were very lost). We had a plan for what we would be doing in Shibuya, but unhappily found that our guidebook, although enthusiastic about the many places we were planning on visiting, was very, very wrong about their existence altogether. Time and again, we would make our way to an address only to find that the establishment had closed or was replaced.
All the people you see in this picture are crossing the street.
Jillian and I tried to stay optimistic, but the boys who were just following us around in our fruitless and round about searches soon became tired and irritable. We left them in a pachinko arcade and set out in search for one more guidebook suggestion. When that one also no longer existed, we quickly abandoned the Shibuya sightseeing effort and headed back to retrieve the boys. On our way we stopped by a Japanese photo booth for some elaborate photo stickers to take home as souvenirs. Jillian and I had no idea what was going on inside the booth, but before we knew it, the booth would snap our pictures and then smash them inside a hamburger. The whole experience was very confusing but fun, and as you can see, the product was quite good.
Back with the boys, we tried to figure out how we would spend our time before Jonathan joined us for dinner at the “Lock up.” Before coming to Japan, Jillian did extensive research on activities, places, and particularly restaurants that we should visit. The Lockup is a theme restaurant based on the idea that you are locked in a cell, served by female jail guards, and of course there is a prison break or two during your dinner. We had reservations at 9pm.
When Jonathan finally arrived, we spent a half hour singing Karaoke. Jonathan and Dax made quite the Karaoke team. Dax sang lead while Jonathan was on backup with some crazy screeching 80’s hair band vocals. It was quite impressive. They were both hoarse when it was over.
“Lock Up” was everything it promised to be and more. More like a demon prison than anything else, the restaurant used skulls and bones as its motif. It was located in the basement of a rundown building. You had to walk down a crumbling set stairs, open a creaky wooden door, and follow a very dark passage filled with haunted house-esque creatures. The experience filled you with just the right amount of dread to make you completely lose your appetite. Handcuffed, we were lead to our jail cell where we awaited our fates. The food wasn’t bad, but like I mentioned before, the atmosphere was not exactly conducive to enjoying the culinary arts. Every once in a while a bloody man would bang into our cell and pretend to bite at our throats. Each time I screamed and clung to Jonathan like I was really about to be eaten alive. I just couldn’t help it. At one point, on our way to the bathroom, Jillian and I found ourselves in the pitch-black with a Japanese voice on the intercom apparently warning the patrons of a prison break. We made it to the bathroom to find a whole hoard of Japanese girls screaming in fear and holding the door closed to keep the monsters out. It was hysteria in the woman’s restroom. Not to mention there was some filthy Australian man in there, drunk out of his mind, and trying to hit on the girls. They tried to kick him out, but he would have none of it, claiming he was enjoying the scenery. At one point a girl started to throw up in the sink, and the Australian, whose pants were sagging so low that little wisps of curly hair were protruding into the public realm, couldn’t help but announce it in detail to the rest of the bathroom. Because, Jillian and I were the only ones who could speak English, I think we were also the only ones completely grossed out by this man on more than one level. Deciding that it was probably scarier in the bathroom than it was outside with the masked prisoners, we made our way through the dark maze-like halls back to our cell, safe and sound. It was all really fun.
As we were leaving, several Japanese men confronted us saying that one of our friend's had come into their cell, thrown up, and passed out on their table. We could only assume it was the Australian. We tried to explain that he wasn't our friend, but because we were the only other white people in the restaurant, they never seemed to beleive us. Oh well.
To be continued…
Spooky.
1 comment:
Um, yikes. But still...a prison stay that includes a ravening cannibal and skulls and crossbones sounds more funny than scary; it's your ideal prison/pirate ship/haunted house experience all rolled into one!
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