At the end of my second day in Tokyo I had my one and only taste of Tokyo’s nightlife. Clearly one night that takes in two places that are filled with exactly the same crowd is about as unrepresentative as it gets, but there are a number of things you need to know if you’re going out in Tokyo.
The first thing, and DEFINITELY the most important thing you need to know, and what I didn’t know until very near the end of the night, is that nobody in Tokyo uses measures when they pour drinks. They just judge how much to pour. And if you want, you can ask for a strong drink and they’ll pour a bigger measure AT NO EXTRA COST. This is perhaps the ultimate score if you’re British, and is vital to our mission to be total pricks when on holiday.
The second thing you need to know is that nobody goes red there when they drink. Nobody. It is the only Asian country I’ve ever been to where the people can drink and not go red. I was fucking livid, I can tell you.
The third thing is that they can dance.
As an Asia veteran I am now quite accustomed to seeing an entire dance floor of people seemingly dancing with headphones on, each with completely different music playing at completely different speeds. It’s usually as if there’s no DJ in the club at all. The bass is turned down and the treble up, and the DJ will usually not bother beat mixing. Or he’ll try and scratch over the top, only his version of scratching is just to hammer the needle (or digital turntable) back and forth over whatever part of the track he feels like. Kind of like a metaller screaming instead of singing, but not in time with what the rest of the band is doing. They will also talk. This happens everywhere I’ve been - Hong Kong, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur - everywhere. But not in Japan. It was almost like being in a club in London, only the girls were at least a million times hotter. J-hot.
I’ll keep using that word and you can’t stop me.
So we started in a bar, originally sold to me by Dan as a party. A party where you pay to get in and then pay for drinks. So a bar, then. Filled to the brim with members of the fashion industry who, unlike their London counterparts, are actually very nice people. I’ve never felt so uncool and fat in my life. Which was a new feeling for me because obviously I’m REALLY FUCKING COOL AND NOT FAT. It was there I met Hashi (whose name I’ve definitely spelt wrong), a tall, skinny, bald (intentionally, I think) fashion stylist who has the best jacket I’ve ever seen. I say “nice jacket”. He replies “thanks, it’s really expensive.” More drinks (not strong yet, Dan will only tell me about that at the very end of the night) and then we’re off to the Dazed and Confused party, to drink with even hotter girls (if that’s even possible) and even skinner guys.
As we queue outside the Dazed and Confused venue we’re told by the bouncer not to say a word. There are signs up saying No Noise, which I giggle about quietly and point to. The bouncer rushes over and gives me The Look, so I realise they actually mean business and I shut the fuck up. Then we get inside.
Within the first minute I’ve seen the second most beautiful girl on the planet (after my girlfriend, obviously, who I still want to do the sex with after she’s read this) and then I realise she has a hundred twin sisters, all dressed differently with different hair, but otherwise being identical. The good kind of identical, obviously. At this point girls can argue that if they all look the same then they have no character and are therefore less attractive. If it makes them feel better. Then some dude strides over and introduces himself. He must be practising his English! And it’s not bad. So I talk utter bullshit to him for about 30 minutes (during which time I tell him we all see things in 4:3 ratio and English girls have their fannies on sideways) before Dan comes up to me and says “I can get rid of him for you.” So I go to the toilet and when I come back he’s gone. Dan says “I told him you were straight.”
Later on the next day we would meet a girl who thinks Dan and I are a HOT couple, and Dan would use her misplaced sense of sexual safety to hit on her and take her to dinner, even though she’s married.
Then we go home, because Sunday is Chibita Day - the real reason I’m in Tokyo.