Just in case you were following... I presented my Friday blog BEFORE my Thursday one. Whoops! How's that for wanting to get to the nitty gritty?
It's Saturday, September 21, 1991 - I'm covered in sweat and other bodily fluids. It was a good night.
No one ever told me I could get laid in Japan - hell, I would have come to this country sooner.
I love Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.
My ex-girlfriend Ashley with whom I am sleep with on a semi-regular basis spent the night at my apartment. Since last night was another marathon session, we sleep in until 11AM, get up, shower together, need another shower, then sort of get dresses and watch television all day long.
It's an ugly day outside that looks like the skies are about to open up - but it hasn't yet.
At 5PM, I ride with Ashley back to her place in Nishinasuno-machi (Town of Nishinasuno) 20-minutes away, and then race back to my place. I've been invited to a 'disco party' tonight. Matthew was invited too... and I no longer recall if Ashley was, but she isn't going. Probably a good thing, as that way people won't think she and I are a couple again. Though that prospect isn't alarming for me, it seems to be for her.
I know all of the other assistant English teachers on Tochigi's JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme know we were an item, but that we have been so rocky that no one wants us to be together. Apparently Ashley and I are great together in doses not less than 47 minutes but no longer than 24 hours.
Showered and dressed, Narita-san (Mrs. Narita) comes to pick me up as I am on the phone with Catherine. Again. She keeps calling me. I guess she does like me. But dammit, I don't want a girlfriend. I'll take what she's offering, but that's it.
Narita-san drives to a nearby mall, parks andwe get into a coach bus parked there. Narita-san is a very attractive married woman who is in my beginner's night time English class I teach with the Ohtawara International Friendship Association on the side of my regular JET job as a junior high school English teacher. Nowaday's, some might call her a cougar. But, as far as I know, she was loyal and faithful. I think she just liked to party and flirt and have fun.
The bus then drives off towards the north end of Ohtawara stopping off at the Asian Rural Institute. Holy crap. There sure are a lot of gaijin (foreigners) on this bus!
The Institute gang consists of Indian's, Pakistani's, Chinese, Vietnamese and more who have come to this country to learn about Japanese farming techniques - techniques that they can hopefully take home and apply successfully in their native country.
We drive on to a place called "Galaxy", that is shaped like a dome... hmmm, or like a planetarium.
We dance with the Japanese natives and others. There's little food, but the drinks are free!
There's a very cute young lady from my former Thursday night conversation class. What the hell is her name?! She and I dance with each other a lot. She like me, and I want to do things to her. I tell her we'll go dancing in Utsunomiya (Tochigi-ken's capital city) sometime soon, but that we'll have to leave her mother at home. She laughingly agrees, leans in and gives me a kiss on the lips. I tell her we don't have to go dancing. I tell ya... it was like watching a lobster cook. She turned red so fast I thought she was going to die.
I lean close to her ear and ask: "Daijobu desuka (Are you okay?)" She smiles again and stammers out a simple 'Okay".
And then things start to go pissy for me.
Kevin... and American working in Ohtawara through an exchange program with his company comes over and starts talking to her in Japanese. Since that's easier than muddling through English with me, she starts talking with him.
I am fuming!
Fortunately, the music is over, so we go back home. I'm in a bad mood now - having had a woman poached from me... I'm sure as hell not used to that... so I head over to my local watering hole, the 4C.
The 4C is a mere three-minute stagger from my home - two minutes when one is sober and walking to the place. It's not a watering hole per se. It's a very clean and classy bar that seems to have more than its fair share of gaijin customers.
Besides being close to my home, there's also usually a New Zealander bartender or there that works there... so at least I get my drinks made the way I like them. It's usually a beer or a rum and coke, but sometimes it's nice to know you can speak English when you are trying to relax.
Unfortunately, despite the day starting with a bang... this evening has gone downhill and is continuing to go downhill. At the 4C, Kevin, Brian, Matthew and his friend Rob and Matthew's girlfriend Takako are there. Not wanting to hang around and talk near Kevin lest I spit in his drink, I sit at the bar--though I do ask the barkeep if he could maybe spit in his drink for me for 500 yen. He respectfully declines even after I told him what had happened earlier.
So... I see a hot-looking Japanese woman. She seems to know me, and also seems to know I am single at this time. After she greats me with a simple "Konichiwa An-do-ryu sensei (Hello Andrew teacher)" , I join her at a small table for two. I'm speaking broken Japanese and broken English, and she is speaking decent English back. She has her bare left leg pressed up against my right pant leg, and the heat is so high I swear my underwear is melting.
She grabs my hand that is sneaking low on her leg, and places it higher on her bare thigh. And then...
...here comes that blowhard Kevin who again uses his wonderful Japanese language skills to hit on someone I am already well into hitting on.
I excuse myself for a moment and ask Matthew to get him the hell away from me and my date du jour. He glances back over his shoulder and asks Takako to get him to talk with her. She complies without a moment's hesitation.
If I only have one memory of Takako that I could remember, I hope it's that one. I love her for that. Not for her obedience, but rather because she saw me - her friend - could use some help, and she did so without asking any stupid question. Problem. Solution. Problem solved.
Takako actually goes over and grabs Kevin away from the table. I go back to work on the other beautiful young lady in the bar (Takako being the other, of course).
After 10 minutes of me getting my groove back on, Kevin excuses himself from Takako to go to the washroom. Guys... it's always a great idea to keep an eye on the other bastards.
When he comes back, he again starts talking to my girl... in Japanese, again.
He's really pissing me off! And with the amount of alcohol being burned off by my anger, I'm going to beat his ass into submission. The problem is... I'm a JET. I'm also a representative of Canada. I do not wish to do anything in this country that would be embarrassing to my programme or my country. I am only less concerned about myself. Me writing about sex or past relationships in this blog is not embarrassing. Kevin's behaviour, however, was.
So I leave. Don't think me a coward. Being a brown-skinned guy growing up in Toronto, I've been in more fights than I can remember - up until my early 30s. I'll gladly take two to get one in.
Still, all bets are off for the next time I see Kevin.
Somewhere it begins to rain as I walk home,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Who: THATBASTARDKEVIN
