The weekend that wouldn't end...

5/25

Ok, so here comes the weirdest story of them all. So, Chisako had invited me over for dinner the previous week and I was under the impression that she would be making dinner, so I go out and buy a bottle of wine as a gift and get to her house at 6 pm. I arrive and she is waiting for me outside and tells me that we are going to a restaurant, so the bottle of wine gift feels a little strange now, but whatever. So we go to this nice Japanese restaurant for sushi and other authentic Japanese foods (tempura, tofu, fried fish of which you eat the entire thing, including its giant ass fried head. Yup...). So it's myself, Chisako and her family (son, daughter-in-law and their six and three year old daughters), and her friend. We begin with drink, of which I order water because I'm still in a little bit of pain from the two nights before. Chisako's son looks at me when I tell him water and seems a little shocked, making me feel slightly nervous now. I tell him that I had a pretty late night and that alcohol just didn't sound good which he says is fine. Then he decides to open the bottle of wine I brought and pours me a glass. I figure one glass of wine is innocent enough, but I forgot the Japanese custom of filling your neighbor's glass, of which Chisako's son is VERY observant of. (By the way, Chisako is the only name I can remember, apologizes.) So before I knew what was going on, her son and I had finished the bottle and were on to other Japanese drinks. So we are eating and drinking and I'm playing with their daughters (who are adorable) when he asks me if I know kamakura. I say no and he tells me that after dinner we will go. Chisako and her friend were trying to explain to me what a kamakura was and all they could get out was "many pretty Japanese girls" which is all I needed to hear to be quite honest. So we finish eating and I get in the car with her son, (which I learned is the highest end car you can get in Japan, its called a Century) and we get dropped off at the Kamakura.
Well, kamakura in English is a hostess bar, which was explained to us during training as a bar where men go to drink overpriced drinks and talk to girls, aka hostess. We were warned not to go to one because they are expensive and most probably wouldn't let a foreigner in in the first place. But I get in since I'm with Chisako's son (for the sake of simplicity, I'm going to call him Ichiro from here on out). It looks and feels just like a strip club, with semi-worn out leather couches lining the walls, dim lighting, and for some reason "Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer" playing on a projection screen. So we sit down, Ichiro puts in a drink order and begins to point to different spots around our couch. They bring back a bottle of so-chu and a bottle of brandy that looks like a really nice leather bound novel. So we are drinking and all of a sudden two Japanese girls in basically prom dresses sit down, and this is a hostess club. They sit and talk and make us drinks and hand us wet towels and wipe the bottom of our glasses off periodically. Its pretty weird. What makes it even weirder is that Ichiro is incredibly critical of the girls, asking me every so often what I think of the girls to which he would reply "Hmmmm, I think her bust is too small, I do not like," or "I think she is a little fat." So this happens with about five girls, they just cycle through, sit down for a little while, take some verbal abuse from Ichiro, stir some drinks and then cycle out.
So as we continued to drink, the conversation got more perverse and they wanted to learn english. So it literally comes down to Ichiro asking me "Blowjob, what is it?" I would tell him to which he would reply "Oh! Blowjob I like!" Then he would have me explain to the hostess, who would giggle and say things that I will not put in this little story. So I teach them some English, they teach me some Japanese, and Ichiro and I basically polish off the bottle of brandy. At this point I'm really starting to feel the culmination of the entire weekend and am regretting that I have to wake up at 6 am to go to school (Which is where I am at right now typing this out. I told Isobe sensei, my head English teacher, about my weekend so he said no classes for me today and to rest, thank god.) So we leave the hostess club at 1130 pm, are escorted out by our little ladies of the night, get into a taxi and go home, Ichiro picking up the whole bill.