Okay, I can't profess to be any sort of expert on this because I really don't spend much time, if any, at bars/clubs in Tokyo. I however find myself going more and more (as this seems to be the most popular social activity) and would like to write about what I've noticed so far.
First of all, Japan has an extraordinary night life. Just about every city is overrun by bars or "clubs". Most local areas have dozens of Izakaya (居酒屋) or local bars, similar to places back home. Izakaya serve bar food and beer and are usually filled with the usual suspects (old men, salarymen and maybe the local gaijin looking to practice their Japanese). I've never actually gone into an Izakaya. Not because I haven't tried, but because no one will let me. Every time I ask my friends steer me away. I'm starting to think that if I go in, I'm going to get molested by the locals or something. I've heard stories, and to be honest, it doesn't seem like anything spectacular unless I'm looking to pick-up crude Japanese. **Update: Some of these places are pretty cool, have great food, and interesting drink selections. I still wouldn't spend more time there than I had to though.**
The other type of bar is often referred to as a "club", a hostess club. Most of these places are located near the closest train station. They charge you a ridiculous cover charge ($50+/hour) to sit and drink with pretty Japanese women. Yes, that's all you do. Okay, some places have karaoke and maybe sometimes the girls will "dance," but if you've seen Japanese girls dance. Well let's just say my 7 year old nephew could probably dance better and sexier than these girls. And no, I don't find my nephew sexy. Upon entering, you sit while women dressed like they're on their way to prom (only with more clothes on) pour you drinks and talk to you like you're a 5 year old. Okay, to their credit, some big name places, that cater to a more professional clientele, require the hostesses to read various newspapers so that they can have more intelligent conversation. But seriously, you're paying someone to talk to you. These women make money by getting you to buy more alcohol. I say, save yourself the money and watch this fascinating documentary on host clubs instead (the male equivalent of a hostess club):
Japan also has clubs/bars that are similar to ones you would find overseas. Which brings me to the real point of this blog: My Saturday night at "Tokyo's Premier Australian Bar". Hmm, something says, I doubt this, but okay.
Let me preface this by saying, I do NOT spend my weekends at bars. The only reason I ended up at this place was because a fellow English teacher had rented the bar for a couple of hours to host a party. The bar was located right off the main strip in Roppongi (actually on the 3rd floor of a building tucked away on a sidestreet). I actually couldn't find it, so Joe had to come get me and walk me there. It seems that most bars allow independent parties to rent them out before 10pm as a way to bring in more cash. Apparently people in Roppongi don't start drinking until well after 10pm - actually, one of the bar tenders told me the place doesn't get going until 3am when it turns into a night club....3am? Seriously?
Even though he's a coworker, Joe still made me pay to get inside. Once inside I found 10 people sitting at a large table talking in Japanese. I immediately turned around and went back outside and talked to Joe in English. Joe has mastered Japanese (passed the highest Japanese proficiency test) and is currently working on Chinese and thus surrounding himself with Chinese people. One of his Chinese language partners was standing around listening in, when he suddenly goes, "I know who you look like," in not so proper English.
"Me?" I say rather unamused since I've been told a thousand times that I look just like someone's ________(aunt, sister, best friend...you name it).
"Yeah, you look just like Fergie."
"Fergie? Like Black Eyed Peas Fergie?" Well dang, that's a new one. Maybe she's the only foreign brunette that he knows because no white person, ever in a million years, would confuse me for Fergie.
"Yeah, Fergie!" The rest of the night he kept calling me Fergie. Is this flattering? I guess it could be, but strange nonetheless.
Almost right on cue a black guy (okay, it was rather at random) steps out of the elevator with another English teacher that we work with. Yeah people who speak ENGLISH! Feeling more comfortable, I went back inside and ordered a drink (entrance price included 2 drinks) and sat with everyone else. Not feeling confident in speaking Japanese, I turned to the black man assuming he must speak English (just about every foreigner in Japan speaks some form of English). We chatted and I learned that he was a cellphone network designer from Zimbabwe. His company and the Japanese government paid him (two salaries) to take a 4 month course in Tokyo (they also set him up in a posh hotel in the middle of the city). Crap, where do I find a job like that? **Update: It seems those jobs abound in Tokyo** After 20 minutes or so, a large group of Japanese men came in. The ratio was now 16 guys to 8 girls, a 2 for 1 deal!
Our table had grown in size, as everyone who came in had pulled up a chair. Feeling more nervous with the ever growing crowd, I went back to the bar for my second drink. I ordered a margarita. Simple enough, right? Not in Japan. The bar tender (and I mean no offense to her, she was actually really cool), had to look up the ingredients for a margarita, then spent 10 minutes taking out the blender and putting it together. I guess blended drinks aren't all that common here. What came out of it, didn't taste anything like a margarita. Well down the hatch!
Feeling much more relaxed, I started joking around with Dan (the other English teacher who is by far one of the quirkiest, socially awkward people I've ever met). Somehow we started talking about my arms and why I had so much muscle. This led to a discussion on yoga and then a group request to show a yoga pose. Feeling quite uninhibited, I quickly obliged by doing this pose while balancing on the arms of the lounge chair
. I guess a foreign girl doing yoga in a bar is a Japanese mating call because immediately after I dropped back into my seat, two Japanese guys came over to let me know just how "sexy" that was. Um, thank you? For the next ten minutes I got an earful of how flexible and amazing it is that I can do that, how smart and well paid they are, and then a request to teach private swimming lessons. WHAT!? gah, no! And I thought Japanese men were afraid of white girls. Another Chinese guy, seeing me talk to other Asians, decided that this was his cue to strike up a conversation about swimming using his iTouch (it seems his spoken English isn't that great). This lead to another Japanese guy coming over to talk about "swimming," and my "other hobbies"...which I can only assume was a double entendre. Could the night get any stranger? Why, of course it could!
Maybe Dan felt neglected, but suddenly he started to flex his muscles. Not in the figurative sense...he literally started flexing his arms. Joking that he was so tiny, he challenged me to an arm wrestling match. Joe's girlfriend, having served in the Canadian armed forces literally jumps up to clear the table. In her excitement, she breaks a glass over my legs. Fortunately for me, my legs were safe; which is amazing seeing how accident prone I am. Unfortunately, for Dan, so were my arms. 10 minutes later, I had wiped the floor with him. Having established myself as clearly the most dominant person in the bar I felt this might be a good time to make my exit. It was nearly 11pm and I had to catch the last train home. Saying my goodbyes, I hurried for the station. As I approached the station, I realized that despite having talked to a dozen or so people. I hadn't learned a single person's name. My social skills are clearly lacking.
First of all, Japan has an extraordinary night life. Just about every city is overrun by bars or "clubs". Most local areas have dozens of Izakaya (居酒屋) or local bars, similar to places back home. Izakaya serve bar food and beer and are usually filled with the usual suspects (old men, salarymen and maybe the local gaijin looking to practice their Japanese). I've never actually gone into an Izakaya. Not because I haven't tried, but because no one will let me. Every time I ask my friends steer me away. I'm starting to think that if I go in, I'm going to get molested by the locals or something. I've heard stories, and to be honest, it doesn't seem like anything spectacular unless I'm looking to pick-up crude Japanese. **Update: Some of these places are pretty cool, have great food, and interesting drink selections. I still wouldn't spend more time there than I had to though.**
The other type of bar is often referred to as a "club", a hostess club. Most of these places are located near the closest train station. They charge you a ridiculous cover charge ($50+/hour) to sit and drink with pretty Japanese women. Yes, that's all you do. Okay, some places have karaoke and maybe sometimes the girls will "dance," but if you've seen Japanese girls dance. Well let's just say my 7 year old nephew could probably dance better and sexier than these girls. And no, I don't find my nephew sexy. Upon entering, you sit while women dressed like they're on their way to prom (only with more clothes on) pour you drinks and talk to you like you're a 5 year old. Okay, to their credit, some big name places, that cater to a more professional clientele, require the hostesses to read various newspapers so that they can have more intelligent conversation. But seriously, you're paying someone to talk to you. These women make money by getting you to buy more alcohol. I say, save yourself the money and watch this fascinating documentary on host clubs instead (the male equivalent of a hostess club):
Japan also has clubs/bars that are similar to ones you would find overseas. Which brings me to the real point of this blog: My Saturday night at "Tokyo's Premier Australian Bar". Hmm, something says, I doubt this, but okay.
Let me preface this by saying, I do NOT spend my weekends at bars. The only reason I ended up at this place was because a fellow English teacher had rented the bar for a couple of hours to host a party. The bar was located right off the main strip in Roppongi (actually on the 3rd floor of a building tucked away on a sidestreet). I actually couldn't find it, so Joe had to come get me and walk me there. It seems that most bars allow independent parties to rent them out before 10pm as a way to bring in more cash. Apparently people in Roppongi don't start drinking until well after 10pm - actually, one of the bar tenders told me the place doesn't get going until 3am when it turns into a night club....3am? Seriously?
Even though he's a coworker, Joe still made me pay to get inside. Once inside I found 10 people sitting at a large table talking in Japanese. I immediately turned around and went back outside and talked to Joe in English. Joe has mastered Japanese (passed the highest Japanese proficiency test) and is currently working on Chinese and thus surrounding himself with Chinese people. One of his Chinese language partners was standing around listening in, when he suddenly goes, "I know who you look like," in not so proper English.
"Me?" I say rather unamused since I've been told a thousand times that I look just like someone's ________(aunt, sister, best friend...you name it).
"Yeah, you look just like Fergie."
"Fergie? Like Black Eyed Peas Fergie?" Well dang, that's a new one. Maybe she's the only foreign brunette that he knows because no white person, ever in a million years, would confuse me for Fergie.
"Yeah, Fergie!" The rest of the night he kept calling me Fergie. Is this flattering? I guess it could be, but strange nonetheless.
Almost right on cue a black guy (okay, it was rather at random) steps out of the elevator with another English teacher that we work with. Yeah people who speak ENGLISH! Feeling more comfortable, I went back inside and ordered a drink (entrance price included 2 drinks) and sat with everyone else. Not feeling confident in speaking Japanese, I turned to the black man assuming he must speak English (just about every foreigner in Japan speaks some form of English). We chatted and I learned that he was a cellphone network designer from Zimbabwe. His company and the Japanese government paid him (two salaries) to take a 4 month course in Tokyo (they also set him up in a posh hotel in the middle of the city). Crap, where do I find a job like that? **Update: It seems those jobs abound in Tokyo** After 20 minutes or so, a large group of Japanese men came in. The ratio was now 16 guys to 8 girls, a 2 for 1 deal!
Our table had grown in size, as everyone who came in had pulled up a chair. Feeling more nervous with the ever growing crowd, I went back to the bar for my second drink. I ordered a margarita. Simple enough, right? Not in Japan. The bar tender (and I mean no offense to her, she was actually really cool), had to look up the ingredients for a margarita, then spent 10 minutes taking out the blender and putting it together. I guess blended drinks aren't all that common here. What came out of it, didn't taste anything like a margarita. Well down the hatch!
Feeling much more relaxed, I started joking around with Dan (the other English teacher who is by far one of the quirkiest, socially awkward people I've ever met). Somehow we started talking about my arms and why I had so much muscle. This led to a discussion on yoga and then a group request to show a yoga pose. Feeling quite uninhibited, I quickly obliged by doing this pose while balancing on the arms of the lounge chair
. I guess a foreign girl doing yoga in a bar is a Japanese mating call because immediately after I dropped back into my seat, two Japanese guys came over to let me know just how "sexy" that was. Um, thank you? For the next ten minutes I got an earful of how flexible and amazing it is that I can do that, how smart and well paid they are, and then a request to teach private swimming lessons. WHAT!? gah, no! And I thought Japanese men were afraid of white girls. Another Chinese guy, seeing me talk to other Asians, decided that this was his cue to strike up a conversation about swimming using his iTouch (it seems his spoken English isn't that great). This lead to another Japanese guy coming over to talk about "swimming," and my "other hobbies"...which I can only assume was a double entendre. Could the night get any stranger? Why, of course it could!Maybe Dan felt neglected, but suddenly he started to flex his muscles. Not in the figurative sense...he literally started flexing his arms. Joking that he was so tiny, he challenged me to an arm wrestling match. Joe's girlfriend, having served in the Canadian armed forces literally jumps up to clear the table. In her excitement, she breaks a glass over my legs. Fortunately for me, my legs were safe; which is amazing seeing how accident prone I am. Unfortunately, for Dan, so were my arms. 10 minutes later, I had wiped the floor with him. Having established myself as clearly the most dominant person in the bar I felt this might be a good time to make my exit. It was nearly 11pm and I had to catch the last train home. Saying my goodbyes, I hurried for the station. As I approached the station, I realized that despite having talked to a dozen or so people. I hadn't learned a single person's name. My social skills are clearly lacking.
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