Vodka Water Coffee, Chapter 1
BORED AS FUCK
December 3, 2009
I am bored as fuck. I mean, I love my work and the kids who look at me with loveful eyes everyday, as a respectable woman who teaches art. In English. I am very cool. But I just don't see myself doing this every single day to get by. My soul is going haywire orgasmatronic without any immediate outlet and this is no good. Although my job description says that I am still, somehow, relatively connected to art, being a teacher isn't exactly what I want to do with my life. I need to create. Like a woman that is built to do it, get pregnant, and deliver a child after 9 months. That type of creator… but doesn't involve men and all other complications that come with them. I know. Who would dare to think that this pornmouth is even qualified to join the esteemed academe, right? So this illusion needs to stop. For the sake of young students.
But wait, I NEED MONEY TO PAY RENT AND TO BUY FOOD AND BUY PERSONAL HYGENE PRODUCTS. And gum.
So I took gigs at local clubs around Tokyo while I contemplate on when to file my resignation, and the life that comes with being unemployed.
Last night at Vagabond club in Shinjuku, I met someone.
Imagine my total disbelief when it dawned to me that I am seeing this man in the flesh. More so, that he is talking to me.
See, I've been fangirling over this man since time immemorial. Who would have thought that in this cheap club at the saddest corner of Shinjuku, I will come across this... this... OMFG super hot man! Whose music I respect and adore forever! And ever!
Miu is my rockstar.
He said he was there to meet a former road tech and childhood friend. And while waiting for him, he actually saw me perform.
Before I could even faint from knowing that my ultimate musical icon saw me play my guitar, or even ask him what he thinks about me on stage, a question suddenly popped in my head.
WHY IN THIS PLACE, REALLY. This place is a shithole. He's more likely to go to a high-end club in Tokyo, or maybe perhaps in Shibuya where all the rock-and-roll kids live and bum their days in smoke oblivion. Vagabond is too... far out pathetic and not fitting his level of celebrity.
He said he likes the anonymity here.
Right, as if there’s really a place that can offer him that. People here can… recog-
Wait, I didn’t recognize him at all, so…
yeah.
That night Miu saw me play a cover of Thursday's Understanding in a Car Crash with my make-shift band, Paper Cranes. And during a break in our set, a man handed over a bottle of beer and card with scribbled text in it that says:
"I'm a band A&R. talk to me when this set is done. -M"
I never realized that it was him because Miu's hair was tied in a high ponytail, and he was wearing dark-rimmed specs and a keffiyeh. And he was bare-faced. No, I didn't see through the specs because I'm a little drunk and high on music.
I read the message thinking it was a song request, because of the beer that came with it. But I was flabbergasted that it rings possibility of an agency interview. Many things, both preposterous and hopeful came rushing into my head like tsunami after a quake.
Since he's an A&R who gave me a card and asked me to meet him, did he... like my work? Will my band get signed?
Are we gonna release an album, make huge hits after hits and be fucking rich and party like gods and sleep with every Taros and Shiros and Reikos out there?
Will we have VIP cards to swipe at every potential privilege's buttcrack?
Am I gonna receive fanmails, gifts… from stalkers?
Am I gonna have a huge house with heaven-white walls and high ceilings like Yoshiki's?
Will my working visa be permanent?
...
And the most important thing,
will I even be able to date Kazuya Kamenashi?
We played our last song, while thinking of the wonderful things Kazu and I will do when that happens, LOL. After our 5-song set, I approached his table at the very back of the club's VIP area (if you call that shabby booth a VIP area), and asked him what gives.
He offered to shake hands.
I immediately held his hand.
Damn. I must be dreaming.
But I see Miu’s face. His eyes. His cheeks. His smile.
I know he’s Miu because he’s got bad teeth.
He told me that for someone with frail-looking hands (I always get my hands noticed every time I play because it’s long and smooth like candlesticks), I have quite fast fingers... and it fascinates him a lot. He asked me if I can play other instruments by any chance, so I told him I am a music major back home, and I know how to make music with almost every string instrument. Bass guitar, violin, cello, and even the Korean Gayageum. And I sing too.
Oh damn, I am doing a hard-sell.
And he was fascinated enough to offer me an audition.
He asked me if I've ever heard of the band Fioria.
OF COURSE I HAVE.
Once.
They are a new band that obtained "object of women's affections and other sinful things" status during last summer’s Shibuya X kick-off concert.
They have a very tall guitarist and a cute drummer. And they play Industrial Metal.
That's everything I know. And care about them.
Miu asked me if I want to try out being a session guitarist for Fioria and start our “working relationship” from there.
...
...
...
...
...
I agreed.
I won't lose anything anyway.
Besides, If only to see Miu again, I'm probably game at auditioning for every single open band in Japan there is.
She walks in.
This woman.
Long hair. Long arms. Long legs.
This girl is long like bamboo.
Black hat.
Bamboo hatrack.
Olive skin.
Big, brown eyes.
She must not be Japanese.
Now where is her paper...
Alice Jean ... I can't read her last name so I'll call it XXX.
"Hi Ms. XXX Where are you from?"
She said we can call her Alice and that she's from Manila but is currently residing in Nakacho in Meguro-ku with a working visa and a stray cat named Kirito. She works as an art teacher blah blah blah blah...
Doraemon's voice actor lives there too. In Meguro. and Takuya Kimura.
She takes out her guitar, a dirty-white Gibson Flying V, from a red case that says "Sfera Oscura"
Sphere... Obscure...
?
She connects the wires to the gadgets. That one is not working; plug it onto the other amplifier.
There.
This woman's limbs are long.
Her upper-left sleeve is covered with a Cherry blossom tattoo.
Meguro and Cherry blossoms...
Was this woman a Yakuza wife? Hahaha.
But her face is too... plain. Her eyes are...
...
.
..
She pulled a riff.
Tap, tap. Mic test. She announced that she's going to perform our song, Horizon, Taka's part.
That's my part.
With delicate fingers like that she's chewing more than what she can swallow.
Intro.
Twinkling sounds. This should be the sound of those little stars in the night sky. But how do they sound like when you're in close range with them? This has been a running theme in my head for years. How these tiny things from afar, really sound like when you're closer; and they are bigger than you and me and the world we live in.
Could they be sonorous and mad and explosive and mocking because we see them as tiny, insignificant things only existing to be offered to a beloved during that one magical moment… and when the magic is over, they only become what remains of love or any similar feeling in your heart?
Stars.
Scars.
Cherry Blossoms.
Stars.
HEY WAIT, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IT THAT WAY!!!
"STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!!!"
EVERYDAY, instead of eating out and chatting with her colleagues during lunch break, Alice come to me. I mean, my book café. Whatever her reason for coming here at exactly the same time, all the time, I have no idea. I doubt that she likes my coffee or my staff. Because,
“A cup of caramel mach, please.”
is always the first and last thing she will ever say. By the time her coffee arrives, she’s already crashed over at her favorite spot, a little reading nook behind the stairs leading to the library. At exactly 1:20, she gets up, checks if there is drool or open blouse buttons, puts on her eyeglasses, and leaves the place… and the coffee untouched. It’s like déjà vu on an infinite loop.
How did I know her name, you say? There was actually this one very hot summer night that the grand déjà vu was shattered; but unluckily, I was not around to witness it. Haniko, the night bookkeeper, told me that the girl who sleeps during lunch time came in and borrowed a book.
“Hi, can I leave my camera in exchange for borrowing this book?”
“Of course. Just fill out everything here. And let me check if the book is in good condition.”
She said she gave Alice a book card and she filled out all the information. She writes with her left hand.
CAFFE ZAFIRO
Coffee, Books, Wine, and Skies
BOOK TITLE: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close *Jonathan Zafran Foer
DATE: Oct 7
BORROWER: Alice Jean
TELEPHONE: 03-3493-3852
ADDRESS: Starlight Tower 1-4-11 Nakacho, Meguro-ku, Tokyo
SCHOOL or WORK where we can contact you in case we can’t contact your phone: KIkokushijo International School 3-7-9 Jiyugaoka, Meguro-ku, Tokyo, Japan Phone: 03-3723-2380
The bookkeeper told me that she looks like a mess, even messier than the girl who sleeps without care at a book café at noon.
"K.I.S.? Are you a teacher?"
"Yes."
“You usually come here during lunch break, don’t you? Why didn’t you borrow it awhile ago?”
“I only thought of it now. It’s too hot and I can’t sleep.”
“Ah, yes. It’s unusually hot today.”
That is all. She must be a normal woman of few words. But for some reason, I am worried about her well being. Call it hardcore empathy, but who in her proper state of mind will sleep like that in a public place every single day? Her life must be really hard not to be able to sleep properly at her own home. And she sleeps for an hour and a half at noon in my cafe.
I am going to try to break this déjà vu today and make my loyal customer enjoy her cup of coffee like how it should be.