Second morning in tokyo

I passed out at 4:00pm the previous afternoon. Damn you jet lag. Everything was fine, then rain started again. Too wet to go back out yet so I had planned on making Ramen. But after two beers and seven hours of walking, it was already a losing battle.

Just gonna make myself comfortable while I read some Stephen king…

Slept until 1 am and was awoken by those two germans again. Saw them the day before, looked like two young 20 year olds. Hip 20 year olds. Like they’re from mile end… but German speaking and immature. The all night talking was annoying but tonight I hear flesh slapping. And giggling.

I’ve gotta know. peek out the corner of the blinds shielding my pod from the rest of the room. Expecting to see two guys up to something… different. Instead:

Two men standing in the middle of the room. They are in their skivvies. Slapping each other in the face with the palms of their hands and giggling. In the middle of the night. So much giggling.

Of all the things to be doing in the middle of the night. Honestly.

Dilemma. Tell them to shut the fuck up, knock it off or go back to sleep and pretend it’s just a normal night? Talking to them would be givjng them a lesson in manners. Dads give unruly kids lessons in manners. I’m not their dad and too young to want that responsibility.

Then they graduated. They start throwing their pillows around, and next the  bedsheets in the hallway.

Give up. Fed up. I go to the kitchen and have my ramen.

The cup says tomato chili. Smells like chili.  Here’s hoping no beef.

There are tuna chunks.

Here’s also hoping I defeat this jet lag, or fall asleep past 4ish the next time around the bend. Would be nice to see shibuya at evening. Would be nice to not have a bedtime.

Still awake. The germans have calmed down but I don’t care. The room is spoiled. Enjoying cold beer at 2 am in the lobby. A man drags his feet like a zombie as he makes his way to the washfoom. Five minutes later he drags himself back to his room. He looks undead. Is that drool?

Girl at other end of lobby there the whole time. Skyping in hushed terms. Reminds me that it’s night here, but not someone else. Maybe I should tell the germans. No, don’t acknowledge their existence plainly in front of them. They are sitcom characters. One episode, nothing more.

I sit on bench. Young guy goes out front door in a hurry holding his gut. He returns minutes later. Door locks him out. He forgot his key. He panics. Eyes are fear. I open it from inside. The look of gratitude on his face is sunlight. He goes back to his room. Minutes later he goes back out. Does he have his key card this time?

He does not. I let him in again. Out of his gratitude he buys me a huge can of mountain dew. Of all the things in the vending machine. He also buys one for the girl in the lobby Skyping.  She cautiously accepts.

waiting for 6 am to roll around. Quiet time will be over. I can go in the room, get things and loudly prep for the day with immunity.

Author: alexander

Drinker of bad wine and writer of many things.