Before leaving Japan, I left a note with half of my last night’s bar tab on Bada’s kitchen table.
Holy Hell, Japan was expensive!
And guys don’t buy girls drinks in Japan…Bastards.
And I might drink just a teeny tiny bit too much….
It was totally worth it though – we had a great time my last night in Fussa!
We finished dinner about 3 minutes before our bar (We Love Fussa) was scheduled to open – just enough time to pay our check and walk two blocks down the street. But, we thought walking in the bar door at opening time screamed “alcoholics” so, we decided to have another drink before cashing out and heading over at a respectable time: half an hour after the bar was scheduled to open.
WLF is a charming bar – one where everyone knows your name, even if they don’t know any other English words.
It was a Gin night for me, I’d discovered a charming, sweet and light summery drink called the “Singapore Sling” at dinner and Techan kept them coming.
A few drinks into the night (5) I decided that I wanted to remember all the ingredients that made this delightful potion, so I took this picture:
hm. yeah, that was helpful. Great idea, Erin.
The next morning, I woke up with a little paper umbrella in my hair.
My first thoughts were: What.The.Hell.
I sipped my coffee, twirling the blue umbrella between my fingers as everything became clear.
Somewhere around drink 6 or 7, I must have started putting the little umbrellas and decorative toothpicks in my hair. Obviously.
Why did I think this was such a good idea?
I’d walked around the Tokyo history museum earlier in the day and admired the beautiful fashions of historic Japan. I even took a picture of a vintage beauty advertisement that I felt was really speaking to me:
Obviously, I felt like some sort of modern Geisha in blue jeans sitting in a smoky corner of the WLF bar who was merely lacking a few ornaments in her hair. Luckily, my drinks were adorned with such pretty little things, that stuck nicely in my sweaty ponytail.
I felt so glamorous.
The gentleman next to me thought I was glamorous also. The bartender called him in when I said it was my last night because he had apparently developed something of a crush on me during the previous week. He is the photographer of his group, a musician of sorts – he plays something that sounds like a recorder but looks like a shark’s tooth. Drunk Bada swore it was a “real shark’s tooth.” I said, “No way, not unless it is a tooth from Megalodon – that giant prehistoric shark- and I’m willing to bet his teeth would be way too expensive to turn into recorder-type instruments.”
We tried to ask him about it, but I didn’t know the Japanese word for Megalodon, so we just got another round of tequila shots. Tequila is the celebratory shot in Japan (go figure) – so we were probably celebrating the fact that I didn’t know any cool words in Japanese.
Finally, Bada and I poured ourselves into a taxi, I dished out the last of my Yen, and we stumbled gracefully back to our hotel room. Because I’m graceful when I’m drunk. Really graceful.