The Weekend

So it was quite the hectic weekend last weekend.

Saturday I met up with Alex in Shinjuku for a jaunt around town. I wanted to go to Shinjuku but instead we decided to go to Yoyogi Park, where we saw things that Tokyo is in desperate limited supply of: trees. After observing various flora - well, it there were mostly only trees - we landed in Harajuku near Meiji shrine where we ended up doling free hugs to those who requested it in English on paper signs. Who's a hug ho... Alex and I intend to actually dispense the free hugs on demand next weekend, and kisses for a hundred yen for select clientele. Wouldn't it be nice to give free hugs, get some kisses, and make some money as well?

After our love fest, we shopped around more in Harajuku, including a few shops on Omote-Sando St, which is tres chic, ma chere, tres chic. We saw many clothes priced outrageously and fashioned poorly, but it was fun to peruse through them nonetheless, and now I know where I can go if ever I need to buy a jogging suit that is a thousand dollars so I can sweat in it. We also made a stop at conveyor belt sushi.

Later on that evening we had all-you-can eat Indian. It is a little jarring to see an Indian woman yammer at you full-speed in Japanese. We all proceeded to gorge our faces with naan and other Inidan delights: it was quite tasty but no where near as good as the Indian place down the street - God, Krystle how I miss going there with you!

After suffering from a bad back from crashing at Chez Eri, we all went to Tsukiji for round 2 of the most glorious sushi you and I have ever had. There was fatty tuna. It's 500 JPY for one piece. It was quite smooth. It all just melted in your mouth!

After doing that, but not before shopping in Ginza just to realize that all shoes there look the same and are priced beyond what anyone should pay for them, we started what would become an evening full of class, charm, and witty banter. Stop #1: cheap standing bar in Shibuya. Who can question 200 JPY for half a pint in Japan, anyway? I would have engaged in many drinks had I not realized that I needed to get my passport for ID. But time was not lost as on the return to Shibuya I nursed a wonderful drink of Baileys, Amaretto, and Vodka and proceeded to get drunk, bitching people via e-mail on the train. Upon my return, I rescue Paul from this questionable Japanese man who kept on trying to put the moves on him. He was not cute at all and thus there is no story to tell.

After providing support for Eri as she spewed outside the establishment, we hopped into a cab to the American military hotel in Roppongi, hence my need for ID. Courtesy of our most gracious friends Rico and Paul, we drank some more in the hotel, went to our rooms, and then continued to talk shit about everything on this side of the planet, inclduing how certain authority firgures are in need of anal. We have no idea how Rico did not wake up at all during this female chatter fest. The next morning, we had breakfast. Real breakfast. With real bacon. And a Grande Machiatto which was fully 16 ounces.

And then I hopped into a taxi for work and got there 5 minutes before twelve. The shit continues.

technorati tags:Ginza, Shinjuku, Yoyogi, hugs, Omote-Sando, Sushi, Tsukiji, Shibuya, Indian