On the way to and from work every day I pass by a small restaurant/bar called “Jin”. I may have written about Jin here before, and if so you’re about to get the same story again. I really must figure out an easy way to search my own archives to find this stuff.
Anyway, Jin is an unusual place, mainly because of the strange times that it is open and closed. For example, it is never open before 9 pm, any day of the week. It is often open when I pass by on my way to work in the morning, which is about 5:15 am.
Jin’s niche is serving people that work evening shifts, and I think that they probably open around midnight or so. By the time I walk by in the mornings on my way to the station, there is usually the sound of lively discussion from inside. Sometimes I even see someone I know come stumbling out of there. Partying like rock stars in Okubo!
I’ve been to Jin once and I remember it very clearly. It was recommended by the master of Denya yakitori, since he knew the owner who is a very nice lady. I stopped in one night after drinking somewhere else – maybe Kobe or Osaka – and for some reason the notion of one more drink at a new place near my house appealed to me.
The place has a small bar and 2-3 low tables on tatami mats behind. I remember that it was winter and there was a warm heater and lots of blankets for people to use. It had the feel of someone’s house more than a bar, which to me was quite pleasant. The menu was predominantly fish and snacks – things that go well with shochu and sake. I sat at the bar between a young woman who was talking with her husband/boyfriend and an older guy pushing 90.
The master of the place was very hospitable, and she served me some sake and some smoked fish to go with it. We talked a bit, and then she went to the back room to make more food for another customer. The old man next to me was having trouble remaining on his bar stool, and he seemed to be having a conversation with himself. I looked over at him, and that’s when he suddenly blew a mouthful of his drink straight at the bottles sitting on the bar and pretty much a third of the way up my right arm.
I clearly remember thinking, “What am I doing here?”, and soon after I paid my bill and left to put my shirt in the laundry hamper. Why was I paying money to drink things I don’t usually drink, eat food that I don’t particulary like, and have old people spit on me? After that I never went back.
But really, my schedule and Jin’s schedule are completely opposite, and even if I wanted to go I don’t really have many chances. Maybe it is for the best – the old man spraying his drink across the bar might have been fate giving me a message…
