Shinkjuku: Balls to the Wall

Saturday I met my old friend and alumnus, Tsukasa, in Shinjuku, Tokyo. He took a 2 hour bullet train trip just to see me. It cost him the equivalent of $200, and that really meant a lot to me. He showed me around the area.

Shinjuku has a reputation as a city that never sleeps. Anything you want to do (or have done to you) can be found in Shinkjuku. We walked down the love hotel streets to see the architecture.

"If you see two people, you can asume they are about to or just finished doing something. If we walk here together, people might think we`re doing something," said Tsukasa.

Then we walked down the narrow, brightly lit avenues. Tsukasa told me that because of the earthquake, Japan is trying to conserve energy, so many of the neon lights that I love so much were turned off. Normally, he said, it looks like daytime all the time.


We ate ramen, which is all I`ve been eating since I got here, and filled each other in on the last two years we missed. Then we went to find a good place to have a beer. As we searched, we were bombarded by Japanese men and the even more persistent, African men, trying to get us to drink (among other things) with girls. The Africans won`t take "No" for an answer, so I just let Tsuakasa do the talking and pretended I wasn`t American.

One Japanese guy approached me, but then switched to English, "Sex? No?"

All the guys and girls in Shinjuku look the same: dyed-blonde hair, tanned skin, dressed for success, and asking you into some bar. It`s like Jersey Shore and Amsterdam all bottled and shaken up into tiny streets. The word that best describes this area would be "ayashii," or "sketchy."

We found one of Tsukasa`s favorite spots and got the night going with all-you-can-drink Asahi on tap. Tsukasa ordered two of his favorite dishes, Gyuu no tama and Uma. That`s cow balls and horse to you, and all of it raw. All my vegetarian friends in Chilla-fornia are going to hate me for this one.

The idea of eating testicles was still dominating my mind even after trying it. The flavor itself was not bad at all, but every time I chewed into it, there was still a little synapse shooting off in the back of my head telling me it was wrong. Horse, on the other hand, I`m terribly guilty to admit, was delectable. Experience > Fear.

Here are the testicles:


Here`s the horse:

Around 11, Saki met us for drinks, and we had a mini California State University of Northridge Alumni reunion dinner. Looks like everyone is working their asses off, and everyone has no time for love, girlfriends, or even proper sleep. I asked our waiter, who was not Japanese, if he knew English. He told me in Japanese, that he didn`t understand. Tsukasa had a good laugh at that.

Before we met, we were joking that when two gods meet, the earth shakes. Tsukasa and I laughed the night away, and just around 3AM we had an earthquake. I was freaking out, because all I could think about was the disaster. Tsukasa laughed it off, saying it was as common as ball-hairs to boys. I`m paraphrasing here.


Saki had more work to do, so he left home on the last train. However, true to the reputation of the city, Tsukasa and I didn`t sleep a peep. We had more Ramen for breakfast and said goodbye. Tsukasa was running on 3 hours of sleep, had a 2 hour journey ahead of him, and had to go into work that day. He`s a monster, a machine.


We said goodbye with no room for sadness in our hearts. We both knew it wouldn`t be the last time we would see each other. I guarantee it.

The Onsen

Embarrassing photo.

At my behest, Sachi`s mom called up all the relatives and planned a weekend stay at the Onsen. It was about a 45 minute drive. We picked up Grandma and headed there around 7:00 PM.


In the room, everyone took off their shoes and slipped into the provided slippers. I had to go without; I looked retarded trying to cram my size 13 feet into what were maybe a size 9, max.


We did the hokey pokey and walked downstairs to eat dinner. On our way I discovered 2 dead bugs; one on the light and one on the floor--fairly close to each other. Double suicide?

Dinner was beautiful. I had the steamed eel. Sachi's mom and aunt had beer with me. Real women.


Before the main course came, we destroyed this gorgeously displayed sashimi.


When we got back, the room had been set for sleeping. No floor peeked out from underneath the soft, airy comforters begging for our attention. Not yet.


After donning the appropriate attire, the men left for the baths. We got to the locker room and quickly got the way God made us. Much toilet humor was exchanged. Turns out dick-jokes are a universal language. Since I am actually much more comfortable without the man-made tethers of clothes groping at my delicate skin, I had no problem getting used to the onsen. I only wished God had given me a pouch like marsupials to keep my towel and razor.


Hot water poured and bubbled. A sauna room, a dry-heat room, two jacuzzi's, an indoor bath, and an outdoor one were waiting, and only one patron was relaxing inside. I have never been so relaxed in my life.

I was amazed, as I always am, at the convenience of, and consideration that goes into Japanese products and services. We were provided with everything we needed to clean and groom ourselves, including a disposable toothbrush. I was looking for where the toothpaste was kept when a tiny plastic tube of just the right amount slid out of the package I was holding. Incredible--toothpaste.

My body felt like jelly. All I wanted to do was sleep.


We got to the room, finished a bottle of sake, and fell asleep.

However, before I did fall asleep, I almost died laughing. All was still, the cold wind stopped beating at our window, and Grandma ripped one, then moaned. She slapped her lips together and fell back asleep. That was the night Toshi and I got to know each other a little better.


In the morning, Yoshiki, Toshiyuki, and I played two rounds of putter golf.


My worst hole was a deca-quintuple bogey. It was a par 4. You do the math.


Yoshiki kicked both of our asses, but Toshi had a knack for miraculous shots.





After that we went to Sachi's Uncle's house to eat Nabe.


We stopped by a candy store and bought some fake dookie and toy airplanes.









The airplanes broke and the fun was over.




We can thank Dirty Hermaphro-Japanozz Christ for these blessings and good times we had.