Part of your world, Vol 2.0

As I chronicled last year , cutting all my hair off wasn't enough to shock them, so I decided to go undercover. Camouflage in the Kaisha jungle if you will.

After spending my life as a Marilyn, I've wandered over to the dark side and am now experiencing life as a Jackie (or we could use the Serena/Blair dichotomy if you prefer something more contemporary). Yes, I'm now a brunette gentle readers, but still no closer to being accepted by my dark-haired peers. Acceptance among them wasn't exactly my aim, but this didn't stop me from obnoxiously pulling at the corners of my eyes and asking the beau if I could pass as Japanese now. Only from the back it seems, and even that would be a stretch with the junk up in my trunk.

It's funny slash heart-breaking to read the entry from last year, because so little has changed. I got reactions from the obvious people, those who smile at me in the hall and who actually partake in verbal communication with me on a semi-regular basis. Most surprisingly however, was the blank look I received from the two Secretaries who (still) sit in my quad. Our daily interactions continue to be limited to good morning and goodbye but they didn't even flinch this past Monday when I walked into the office. I went from curly blond to straight dark brown with bangs a la the singer in the Pretenders. I thought at least they'd ask if I wanted to have a hair-braiding party.

Why am I even surprised any more? One of the two asked me to help her with something last week, which I thought meant we were making progress, but then yesterday she did the same but by e-mail. We are definitely heading in the direction far and away from progress. Digression I believe they call it? I try to smile as widely as my cheek muscles will allow during our brief encounters to discourage this kind of behaviour - the woman sits in spitting distance and we could easily high five over the quad barrier without moving an inch. WHAT IS THE WAY TO THE HEARTS OF THESE PEOPLE?!

Don't turn the dial yet, I could be rocking brown-coloured contacts in the New Year.

Postcard from the Kaisha: Bathroom Edition

I've been peed on at the Kaisha less times than I have fingers and it surprises me every time. Before you start thinking I work for kabushiki kaisha Goruden Shawaa, I don't mean literally, or figuratively either, but I am at a loss for what to call a situation where the Sound Princess isn't summoned to the party. I have become such a priss that I think it's positively scandalous when one of the woman in my office doesn't mask the sound of her pee with an electronic recording of gushing water. I'm surely not alone.

Most time I don't see the culprit, so I can't be sure whether it's sheer laziness or whether a new clause has been written into our Kaisha Work Rules stating that invocation of the Princess is optional when the lonely whitie is the only other person in the bathroom. I can tell you this, it certainly isn't a mistake on their part for on an almost daily basis the sound of my heels hitting the bathroom tile causes some unsuspecting Secretary to turn on the Princess in a hurry, mid-pee. One of the women who takes such liberty around me is the same one who purposely closed the door to the Kaisha after her knowing I was right behind. You know what this means don't you? I'm thinking that visiting the bathroom at the Kaisha these days sans Princess is the new snub.

While we're on the topic of bathrooms, I made the somewhat alarming discovery this week that some Secretaries use the bidet function of the bathrooms at the Kaisha! At home, yes, coupled with a pre-warmed toilet seat it can be quite delightful but who wants to do it at work?! I wish I hadn't made this discovery dear readers, but I can't help that my ears were assaulted by the low rumbling hum of the bidet motor followed by the gentle sound of shooting water, aiming for its mark. In my haste, I once pressed the button summoning the bidet instead of the Princess, and you can bet there was water on the floor after that. I even delayed my exit from the stall, fearing someone would think I was actually using it!

Another day, another bidet. Another insight into one of many neuroses.

Let's call the whole thing off

I was perhaps a tad hasty in writing the shotgun wedding off as being so cut and dry. This little nugget of enlightenment came to me at precisely 5.12 in the morning as I lay in bed listening to the beau yell at Lolicon (hereinafter referred to as Baby Daddy). The beau and I have had periods of ridiculous fighting so I know what he's like in a yelling match, but when he started rolling his Rs yakuza-style I knew he wasn't playin. I normally find that whole macho/angry Japanese man R-rolling thing hot so as I lay there ears a-perk, I wavered between lusty admiration and pain at the actual situation taking place.

As predicted in my last post, the beau did indeed received a phone call from his parents but it was far from over. Also as predicted but to a further extent, they are well put out over the fact that the first mention of Baby Mama is a joint pregnancy/marriage announcement. Due to our passing ships schedules, I haven't been able to grasp all sides of the situation yet, which would entail me firing questions at the beau so that I may eventually learn every sordid detail. However, this is what I've gleaned thus far: The beau's parents realize the family is in a "sho ga nai (can't be helped, c'est la vie) situation but are still smarting from the fact that Baby Daddy has not done things the proper way, or at least take Baby Mama up north to properly introduce her and then open up about their predicament, or at least give some kind of introductory speech, background of how they met, anything really, to assure them that he has thought about this and isn't making bad decisions for everyone concerned. From what I can tell, the conflict is coming down to a show of maturity and also respect for his family, who have been blindsided by this. It seems BD has met BM's family on several occasions but hasn't bothered to mention her to his parents or their proxy representative in Tokyo, the beau.

There is a certain order for doing things here, and even if you fuck that up, you are expected to proceed in some semblance of the original order. The beau told his mom that he would call BD before she contacts him again, to elaborate on exactly why their parents are upset and suggest ways to make amends. This, I assume, didn't go down very well judging from the change in pronunciation of the Rs. I was utterly exhausted at the time of the call but couldn't very well sleep at that point, so I remained in bed listening to the whole thing. BD was not very receptive to some of the beau's ideas and criticisms, it seems he expects his parents to get with the play without having time to absorb what the beau and I have had a week to do. Even without hearing BD, I could tell from what the beau was saying that they were going round in circles, with the beau urging BD to take BM up north for a day trip at least over the New Year's period, to show their parents he values their opinion and is somewhat formally asking for their support.

I started to get a little cranky at the length of the call and its interference with my much-needed sleep. The beau was chewing his brother out for not acting like an adult and yet he is the one who called at 5am to discuss things (granted BD also works nights). Poking my head out I asked him to wrap it up for the morning and after more vocal escalation I turned on the cranky bitch and yelled for them both to hear that I had to work that morning, followed by an ever mature sliding door slam.

I called the beau during my lunch to see what was going on, maybe apologize for getting nasty and receive an apology for being kept up, but I really wanted to ask about something that had been niggling at my mind since hearing it. I had heard the beau asking BD what their parents had said to him and at one point he said, "Green-eyed doesn't think that." What do I have to do with it? I predictably worked myself into a tizzy over this, for what consideration to me would be given in a situation I am not remotely involved in? I am thinking the worst, that the beau's parents think I won't want to marry into such craziness or worse, that I am going to feel bad/jealous that I'm not ringed and pregnant despite having been with the beau for more than a couple months. When asked about the precise nature of what I apparently didn't think, the beau told me we would discuss it later and not over the phone. Fan-fucking-tastic. Points to those who guess right and to be continued...

Daughter, sister, girlfriend, Kaisha ho...aunt?!

Pop that cork gentle readers, a baby's on the way! Not from me obviously, for I take my birth control pills with the vehemence of a crack ho who needs her sweet fix every night, but from the beau's younger brother who in all his irresponsibility probably thought the pull-out method would work indefinitely. Cheers! L'chaim! Kanpai!

Lolicon (the brother) called me last night to tell me the news and I couldn't say anything but congratulations while setting my voice at an unnaturally high enthusiastic pitch. And you know what? If they are happy to have this baby and get married, well good on them and best of luck. Their choice isn't one I would necessarily make but, as my friends and I used to obnoxiously shriek at each other when learning French for the first time, chacun a son gout!

We haven't met the mother-to-be yet, for by my estimation, they have been dating and/or casually fucking for only a couple of months tops. According to Lolicon, she is hotter than the opera singer who used to call the beau onii-sama (lit: honorific older brother), and best of all, legal! She can smoke, drink AND make babies! I can't wait to meet this woman.

Lolicon said they were going to call their respective sets of parents today to break the news and discuss whether to hold the wedding ceremony before or after the little one is born. I am extreeeemely interested to hear how this all goes down with the beau's parents. That could be the understatement of the decade: I've been texting the beau every five minutes to ask whether he has gotten the call from his parents yet. You know the one, they have just heard about Lolicon's inseminating prowess and then call their oldest son the beau for a post mort.

I don't have any money riding on this, for I was too sleepy when the beau got home last night to place bets, but I figure the parents' reaction could go either way. The beau's parents are strict but fair, they tend to approve when, if you do something, you at least do it right. Follow through so to speak. Given Lolicon's baby mama's age and the fact that they are planning to get married, I've got to assume the shit won't hit the senpuki. I am hoping for some choice words said in confidence to the beau (and by extension, me), but since these two are going to do the "honest thing" and get hitched, the parents will probably be excited to have a grandchild more than anything.

I would be remiss if I left out how this could affect me, but rest assured I will tell you. At the moment it is too early to predict what will happen, but up until now I have maintained a position of privilege as the steady, responsible and educated age-appropriate girlfriend of the beau, despite my white ass (face, and everything really). I have been the parents' kimono-tying princess and this may all come to a halt once a union is made and a baby birthed. In terms of age, the baby mama trumps me by being older, but I think according to the Confucian rules, the fact that I am the oldest son's partner trumps her age seniority. Who the fuck knows what happens to the rules when a grandchild is born. I could be overreacting but I get the impression that for many people here, carrying on the family line is held above personal and professional ambition. The beau's parents are lovely and some of my favourite Japanese people of all time so I won't be so quick to write off their feelings for me, but it will be educational to say the least, to see how things unfold and whether the baby mama usurps me in their affection. I say with none of my usual sarcasm that I hope not.

How has the beau reacted to all this? In summary, iin janai? This is basically the equivalent of "why not?" The beau, after an involved and complex calculation of the baby mama's age, Lolicon's propensity for underage girls and the estimated duration of their courtship, has concluded that they might as well have the baby and get married. I know dekichatta kons are all the rage at the moment but I can't help but feel a curiosity for the situation. Are they in love? Were they looking to the long-term before a baby was conceived? I suppose these questions are too impractical here in Japan where after a certain age, people are relieved when someone gets knocked up.

Never one to leave you on a sour note, let me just say that the beau has threatened to gift the child a bunch of bananas, for in his words, it will probably look like a monkey.

Drinking in alleys

I've hailed the joys of drinking in narrow alley bars before, and it appears to have not been just a phase. A few weeks ago the beau and I had a rare Saturday night together so I suggested we start the evening off at nonbei-yokocho in Shibuya. The beau, while able to get down and dirty with the best of them at Yoshinoya, is a bit of an elitist when it comes to drinking establishments. To him, sipping a bourbon while rubbing shoulders with the other customers (closer to molesting really) along a narrow bar counter is not a good time, nor something one would actively seek to do. Admittedly, the kind of establishments one finds in nonbei-yokocho are frequented by a certain set: the ojisan set, the cool, jet-setting gaijin set and the young hipster Japanese set. The beau, bless him, is not part of said sets. He has, however, learned to play along when I suggest trips to the countryside to eat bamboo shoots, jaunts in dark narrow alleys and evenings in sweet-smelling hookah bars.

I am always surprised to find a seat when I drink in nonbei-yokocho. Given the lack of space and proportion of regular customers, I often show up assuming I will not be able to start off at my first bar of choice. Strangely though, despite nonbei-yokocho's appeal and begging to be in a guide-book uniqueness, I have gotten a counter seat every time. This past evening, I looked out the window and saw a pair of frat boys walking through the alley taking pictures, which made me realize that despite its allure, many people will show up only to leave sono after, feeling intimidated by the intimate atmosphere at most of the bars and restaurants.

We began the night at a place whose name I can't remember for the life of me. The regulars are always friendly and despite some awkward silences at first, we were soon engaged in conversation with the customers on either side of us at the counter. One poor ojisan was berated by the others for asking me where I was from despite having just been asked twice by other people, but the conversation was light and playful. The (apparent) owner is a hip older Japanese man who showed up with a dark-haired Russian woman in sunglasses and hummed an enka tune from behind the counter. After a few drinks we headed over to Tight were we met a cool Middle Eastern and French-Japanese couple. Located on the second floor on eye level with the train tracks, I felt like I was in a childhood treehouse, but with alcohol and trippy graphics bouncing around a plasma screen.

I am always so warmed by my experiences in these tiny bars. Unlike the glam restaurants and bars whose atmospheres discourage interacting with other customers despite the tables (sometimes) being very close together, at the small bars of nonbei-yokocho, you can't help but talk to your fellow customers, and conversations are surprisingly honest and revealing. It's a Japan away from Japan.

As the name implies, Tight is very tight and was made more so by the arrival of three more customers. The beau begged claustrophobia so we paid the check and headed off into the darkness. Approaching the entrance to the alley I asked him whether he would ever come back with me and he avoided the question by asking aloud why people like drinking in such confined spaces. I think in a city like Tokyo where anonymity is prized, drinking at one of these small places allows you to connect with others in a brief and fleeting way, even if you join one bar's small community for only a couple of hours. Whether he comes back with me or not, at least I coaxed him out of his comfort zone, showing him to an unknown nook of the city.

Keeping it in check

Just in time for bonenkai season! I don't think there will be much of anything at home for people this month, which is usually packed with end-of-year parties for every compartment of life. I really enjoy what could be called the Metro's naivete in saying "let's be careful not to drink too much" in small print on the poster. I have an inkling it could take a bit more to undo years of a practically institutionalized encouragement of alcoholism.

What do we have to look forward to at Chez Geisha this month? Hopefully more writing, for one. I haven't posted as much as I would have liked this year so there's no other way to fix that other than an end of year blitz! And speaking of getting blitzed, we can all look forward to stories from this year's Kaisha Kristmas, which is coming up this month. I almost have to bite my pillow I'm so excited to see what will happen this year! Last year they did the schoolgirl uniform thing so this year maybe we'll be treated to Professionals dressed as maids and some ugly cross-dressing renditions of Madonna circa her most recent album cover. The possibilities are endless!

There won't be a trip up North this year, I am spending my first New Year's in Tokyo (not counting the one when I was 20 and started the night off with the madness at Shibuya's crossing followed by inebriation at Pure and phone calls in the ensuing days from boys I couldn't remember)(I may have fallen down some stairs too). This does mean that I probably won't have any tales of the beau's lolicon brother and his underage exploits. Fear not however, for I believe last night the beau told a half-asleep me that the brother may have impregnated someone, so we could be in for a dekichatta-kon (shotgun wedding) in the New Year! (I'll have another post on general sexual health and the use of condoms in Japan coming up shortly.) The good news is, the woman is 27!

New Year's this year is thus a toss up between an event I can wear a sparkly dress to and a small gathering of friends at home followed by a shrine visit at midnight, which I have never done - and yet I dare to call myself a foreigner in Japan! Luckily, champagne knows no cultural boundaries and will be appropriate for either.

This year I will try to refrain from posting about Christmas although I can't promise anything. You know I love to give in to impulse. Hell, I might even indulge in some fried chicken.

Have you noticed the increasing cold, Tokyoites? There's no better cure for cold weather than snuggling up to men with candy-floss hair. That's right! I am reviving Project Host and there will be a visit to a host club this month to look forward to. I can barely keep from clicking my pointy toes together in anticipation!

Last but not least I am trying to finish my kitsuke master course but it may have to wait until January. My favourite kimono bought when I was a student at Waseda doesn't fit as well as it should, so I am hoping to have it taken apart and stitched back together again in time for the New Year. Knowing Japan, traditional seamstresses are probably booked through January so its formal debut may have to wait too.

It's going to be a busy month gentle readers, I hope you're all staying warm and well fed!

Maybe these people aren't so bad afterall

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