The Three Month Itch

That`s what I`ve been suffering this weekend apparently. Sean consoled me last night and said he went through the same, then we moaned about not finding any new dates, while skulking around the emptiest bars of Omiya...

Friday night, I was begrudgingly sitting down to a night of misery with Jeremy and a hot water bottle, when Aki`s husband, Joe, called to invite me to the George. I went along and was instantly cheered up by Aki`s enthusiasm for mayhem and free drinks. An old man she used to know from her hostessing days (it`s not all prostitution, honestly), turned up in the bar and offered to buy us drinks, but I had unlucky just bought my own (for once, a strange turn of events). She then tried to cadge of my Sponsor, but he is the poorest salaryman in Saitama, so I wouldn`t let her. She was drunk enough anyway. That missing enzyme story seems more and more true, now I`ve seen so many Japanese legless on one beer.

Joe had a couple of friends along with him, a Turkish Parisian and an American called Chad. They were Assistant Language Teachers and brought along an ex-student and a current one. The ex-student has spent time in Australia and swears like a trooper while affecting a patchy British accent. I imagine it would be the same hanging out with Madonna, but without Stella McCartney shoving you in the toilets. Chad seems quite a find. He lives directly behind my building (the girl who lived in my flat before me had waved to him from the balcony and accused him of being Very American, a not-very-British thing to do) and is into sensible music. We had a little chat about the delights of the Clash and teased Joe for not knowing about anything prior to 1989. He then moved on to teasing Aki over her Japanese and she tried to pass off the waiter`s kanji as her own, but then couldn`t even remember the word for love in Japanese (which I, unfortunately for her, could). She erupts into a boisterous Tasmanian Devil the more she drinks and is uncapable of thinking in Japanese!

Saturday was OK, although work was a chore as I was exhausted. It was good to see Raju again. He brought me a small clay elephant back from Bangladesh and took the piss about me and Mr Dandy. Next week, in spite of my new year`s resolution, we`re going to the George to celebrate his birthday. After work, I was supposed to see Karen, but didn`t hear from her, so took myself down the George and hung around the bar irritating George over my Sponsor fancying him. Karen and Akiko, one of Cherry Boy`s friends, came in later, by which time I was drunk and unable to sit in one place, so probably seemed incredibly rude running off to talk to an Iranian stranger at the bar.

Yesterday was more of a chore. I had to get up early to go to Cafe Lamp for a language exchange. Generating conversations with strangers on a few hours` sleep is harder than you can imagine, but I struggled through. I introduced one of the groups to the word tacky with the help of Reveal magazine and discussed cosmetic surgery with another. We then all went to lunch, where I misread the total as being my share and nearly threw it all up again as I didn`t have the cash on me to cover it! My lunch was brought first and the whole table readied itself for my chopstick use, but I insisted I would wait for everyone else`s to arrive before I started. This might be rude in Japan, but I didn`t care - I would only have dropped it down myself had I been forced to attempt it under such scrutiny. Atsushi, who I had lunch with the previous week and so had already seen me capably shovelling food into my mouth, offered me a fork in front of everyone, which was annoying and unnecessary. I did my bit for the British Tourist Board and painted England as a picture of politeness - this week I have become sick of the Japanese claim of being so polite, when really they merely seem to lack the imagination to live without rules: shoving is acceptable; as is telling people they look old or fat; and laughing in someone`s face is par for the course. A receptionist heard another teacher telling me the word for strange and demonstrated this with ‘strange foreigner` as though this was not offensive. As a consequence, at Cafe Lamp I made an enormous fuss about the English being polite, particularly people taking their shoes off in houses, even when it is not necessarily called for, so should you have any Japanese visitors to your homes, make sure you make them do this!

I got invited to a party at the house of one of the students, but couldn`t face the journey (or the effort of talking to him more - taking conversation classes in a second language when you have a stutter seems a strange hobby!) so strolled through the train station and bumped into Sean. He was waiting for a friend and invited me to join them to play pool. I am officially rubbish at it and knocked the balls off the table several times. Still, it was over a tenner for two hours, so I felt obliged to get my money`s worth. We then went for yakiniku, a Korean barbeque. Your table has a hole in the middle with a gas grill and you are given raw meat to cook yourself. We had a tableful of food to play with and I think I have discovered my official Favourite Japanese food (taking the place of gyoza, Chinese dumplings...).

Andy had to head home fairly soon after, but Sean and I carried on with our pub crawl. We found loads of fabulous bars - I probably saw more of Omiya in one day than I had in the previous three months - including one American-style bar, which played lovely old music (Wade In The Water included, which shocked Sean when I started wriggling in my seat to it!) and had a brick wall effect inside. On one side, there was a panel painted of a hole in the wall with a bra hanging off metal bars. We went to another Aki had shown me on Friday night and that gave crackers and Boursin as a free bar snack and directed to a corner table as a big party was expected. Sean was enormously excited at the prospect of pretty girls and we agreed that the faux date would end and he would be my faux brother instead.

The guests were disappointingly ordinary, but a plate of nachos was placed on our table and we nervously, but excitedly scoffed them and hoped we wouldn`t be charged. Halfway through, a mountain of sashimi was put down next to them and Sean had his chopsticks snapped and ready to go just as the waiter realised his error and removed them. He had imagined we were guests at the party, sadly just a little too soon! More guests arrived and hovered around our table, but before I could suggest we move, we were presented with the bill and asked to leave! We then moved on to another bar, enjoyed some Hershey`s Kisses and got kicked out after last orders.