Osaka Part 3: Clubbing in the Big City

Ken came home around 9pm that evening which gave us about 2hrs to lounge before our night out. Prior to my arrival, I distinctly remember asking Ken over the phone, "So what are we going to do Friday night?" (Which was my first night in Nara)
"Club dong," he said.

My eyebrows were raised. It has been sometime since I was at a "real" club. I emphasize "real" because Aomori has a few clubs, but with a max capacity of about 30 people whom are too shy to really dance. At the time, I did not realize it, but being a frequent Seattle club junkie back in college and moving to the countryside of northern Japan marked the beginning of my own demise. When I first found out where I was to be placed on JET, I was excited but you could also hear a hint of disappointment in my voice. Aomori? Where is that? I thought I would be bored out of my mind and would move to a bigger city after a year of being in Japan. Unaware, Aomori fixed its teeth deep into my soul. My life, my world was slowly being reprocessed with a mix of culture and molasses. My desire for an active night life transformed into a new appetite for fresh, invigorating experiences. Somewhere along the line, I had an internal revelation that flipped how I viewed the world right-side up. I can't mark the time or day of when it happened, but there I was searching for some sort of answer to keep me going in the right direction. My first year in Japan could have been a lot better if I would have realized it sooner, but masked by my ignorance, I tried to make everything in Japan more like my world back home. Instead of adapting to change, I was trying to make the environment adapt to me and that quite frankly is impossible. I realized it was I that was at error and not Japan. After all, Japan has been itself for thousands of years and I was in Japan for merely one.

How I saw the world quickly changed and in my second year, everything became in some weird delicate way a lot more relaxed and easier. I just felt a lot happier even though the one thing that was once major in my life was gone. The night life urge flat out disappeared. The process was complete and I was reborn.

We sat down on the express train bound for Osaka at 11:30pm. We all wore our "Club Gear," which is attire I would never consider wearing back home for a club night. Jeans and a t-shirt, but damn it was my favorite t-shirt so how could you go wrong? We cracked opened the beers we bought at the 'konbini' and politely drank it on the train. Ken refused because he's not a fan of beer.
"Why are we going to this club, it's just all gaijin," said Casey.
"Dong it's all you can drink, all night for 3500 yen," replied Ken the bargain shopper.
"Damn, it's one of those places?!" I said with surprise.
In the back of your mind you can already imagine what kind of night it was going to be. Gaijin club with all you can drink all night for 3500 yen?! We got off the train and made a short stroll to the club from the station. It's amazing how much a city changes as the night enters the evening gates. The mighty city of Osaka mysteriously turns into a trash dump with a quick blink. Garbage already started filling the streets along with regurgitated stomach acid and raw fish.

We got to the club front door and with a quick ID check and pat down, we made our way inside. The first thing I noticed was that this was actually a nice respectable place. The bar was well lit and had the normal wall rack of liquors. Warning flags quickly flew when I noticed the guy/girl ratio was 5:1, not in our favor.
"Shiiiet, what is this? There's no girls here," Casey quickly complained.
Ken's response was too natural to be unpracticed.
"Oh, its 'obon' so thats probably why," he said.
"Damn, lets just get our drinks," I said heading towards the bar.

It looked like a good mix of people. It wasn't dominated by one certain crowd which was nice to see. The atmosphere was just how I had remembered it. The cigarette smoke, the alcoholic beverages in the hand, the smiles, the laughs, the effort people go through to impress others. Everyone was in their Sunday best. I really felt a bit out of place, but after a few drinks I forgot I even cared in the first place.

It was really cool to talk to Ken and Casey in person after almost 2 years. The more we talked, the more we drank and after a while the alcohol did it's job and we made our way out of the cubby hole and on to the dance floor.
"Shieet, that Hennessey is tearing me up," Casey shouted.
"Of course! You just downed like a triple in 10 minutes!" I said.
Ken wasted no time and quickly separated from us to find his own fun. I hardly saw him all night until it was about time to go. The evening went by quicker than I had imagined it would. With a little bit of small talk and dancing here and there, it suddenly became 4 a.m. I found Ken speaking to a few girls and he introduced me, but honestly I had no interest to meet more people I would never see again. I quickly said, "Hi," and then asked Ken if he saw Casey.
"What? He isn't here? Where did he go?" he asked me.
"Yo, I don't know...Haven't seen him for like an hour," I said.
We both went hunting for Casey without any luck.
"Dang, he disappeared again?" Said his brother.
"What again? Does he always do this?" I asked ken.
Not looking surprised Ken said, "Yah, he just disappears and doesn't say anything."

15 minutes later we left the club without Casey. We sat down on the curb unwilling to go home until we found the missing brother.
"Try calling him, he's not picking up my calls," Ken suggested.
Quickly looking through my phone list, I punch in Casey's number and waited, "Hello?"
"Casey, where the hell are you? We're waiting for you in front of the club. Hurry up!" I shouted.
"Casey? Casey who?"
You could hear the irritation in my voice, "Dude, stop f*ckin around and get your ass to the club."
'Click', I hung up the phone and looked at Ken. "Man why the hell is he lying and trying to play like its not him? What's wrong with your brother?!"
Ken laughed and said two words, "Horn dong," which translates into horny son of a b*tch.
Not giving up I called Casey again and he was playing the same role, "I don't know who you're talking about."
This time, I had enough. I was tired, sweaty, smoky, and drunk. I no longer had the patience to play games. "If you're not Casey, then why are you up at 4:30 a.m. in the morning, huh?!
"I'm getting ready for work."
The volcano was about to erupt. "Work?? You don't even have a job! Get your ass to the club and let's go!"
Ken laughed even more. I couldn't help but to laugh as well. Suddenly, I stopped laughing and wondered for a split second if this really wasn't Casey. That split second turned into a lingering few seconds and gradually, my arrogance realized that if this wasn't Casey, then I was being a true asshole. Before I got off the phone I said, "If this isn't Casey, then I'm sorry for everything," and quickly hung up the phone.
I asked Ken to show me Casey's number on his cell phone and I compared it with the number I got. "0-9-0...........oh sh*t," I said laughing.
Ken looked at the phone number and they were different. We both lost it. I had Casey's old cell phone number which was most likely redistributed to some unlucky victim. I felt horrible as we walked towards the station.

We were both dead tired but awake enough to not miss our stop. "Next, Yamato-koizumi, Yamato-Koizumi," was repeated over the intercom. As we walked home, Ken looked at me with the most seriously eyes I've ever seen on him and says, "Dude, what am I gonna tell Maureen?" (Ken&Casey's mother).

I don't ever remember laughing so hard in my life.