Last night I met up with Struan in Akashi. I haven’t seen him in a long time, so it was good to catch up. We talked about what we had been doing over the holidays – and compared wild stories. Struan usually has some good stories.
I took him to the underground sushi restaurant that Komori sensei introduced me to, and it was pretty full – there was only one seat available. In accordance with standard dining practice, the guy that was closest to finishing wrapped up his bill and took off. We had to give him lots of “I’m so sorry” and “Thank you so much!” on his way out, and the master and his wife gave us lots of “We’re so sorry” because we had to wait just a little while. It’s an interesting ritual.
We sat down and were a little surprised to see that there was another foreigner in the place. He had a Japanese associate on either side, and I think he was probably here on business. He was having trouble with his chopsticks, but was trying all the food. I loved his expression when they told him what he was eating was eel. We smiled at them politely, but we stuck to talking with the master and the another guy on my right. He turned out to be the person who invited Mr. Komuri (and unknowingly, me) to a sake tasting in Akashi at the end of the month.
After a while the foreign guy asked us without preamble or introduction, “I suppose you guys are teachers, right?”
I don’t know what it was about the question – maybe the tone, maybe the “I know it all” expression on his face, or maybe just the situation, but it rubbed me slightly the wrong way. We were just trying to keep to ourselves, and let him enjoy this experience – he’s getting a real taste of Japan in this place.
Anyway, I looked over at him and his group and said “No, actually we’re strippers.”
Maybe it was the tone of my voice, or the expression on my face, but he didn’t ask us anymore questions.
Meanwhile the place was lively as usual, and we had some great sushi. The master was really nice and gave us some free samples of other sushi, and we had a good time. When it was time to go, he scribbled a number on a piece of paper and flashed it at us, and we settled up and left. There’s no price list in this place – it’s just what he decides to charge you. It’s always reasonable, though, and with a couple of beers we got out of there for 3000 yen, just about $30.
The next stop was Donkey for some darts. It was nice to see the gang there again. The master knew Struan as an occasional visitor, but he’d never seen him together with me, so it was funny to see that two of his foreign customers actually knew each other.
He played some darts, and I taught some simple games to Struan and we had a couple of Guinness – it was a nice time. Later in the evening a friend of the master’s wife came in, and the master’s wife (hereafter referred to by her Japanese title “Mommy”) tried to do some matchmaking. I talked a little bit with her friend, named Yoko, and she spoke a fair amount of English. Mommy looked very happy, but I was more interested in playing darts than chatting with Yoko.
Yoko eventually hit the road, and Mommy made sure that I knew she was leaving so I waved goodbye. Later, Mommy asked me if I had a girlfriend, and so the only polite thing to do was tell the truth. I told her that I did have a girlfriend, but I didn’t name names, and she said that I should bring her by sometime. I’m sure this information will eventually get back to Komori sensei, and subsequently back to Mr. Hayashi. I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings though, and it was nice to tell the truth for once about that particular issue.
Meanwhile, Struan was chatting with a couple who spoke a surprising amount of English. They were buying bottle after bottle of wine, and Struan was speaking to them in both English and Japanese. Struan has studied a fair amount of Japanese, but lately he has stopped, and so it comes and it goes.
I had been speaking English to the couple, mainly because most people in Japan seem to want to speak English with me. The guy started giving me a hard time, saying that since I live in Japan I should learn Japanese. I just smiled and said I would do my best. Struan tried to tell him that my Japanese was quite good, but he wasn’t paying attention. He kept coming back to it, and I found it amusing, so I just kept responding in English.
Struan and I got a bottle of Chilean Pinot Noir that was really good. The price was great, too – only $18. The French wine has a big reputation around Japan, so it’s priced high regardless of quality. Wine from other countries aren’t as well known, so I can sometimes find great deals.
We played lots of darts – they made teams of people that came in, and Mommy and I were one team. We played against some other regulars, and we did pretty well. Mommy and I were both pretty toasted, though, and our high fives were getting more and more difficult to do.
It was finally time to get out of there and catch the last train. As we left we said goodbye to everyone, and one of the darts players was going to the same station, so she and I caught the same train. Struan lives close by, so he just walked back to his place.
It was a fun night, and now I’m typing this on Saturday morning with a bit of a hangover.
