(no subject)
Four hours ago, after shopping at a free market and prior to grabbing my train back home - note this is at 4pm on a Sunday - I dropped into a donburi shop to grab a bite to eat. The proprietor sat me upstairs, next to a group of completely shitfaced taxi drivers who made friends, and sufficiently impressed with my nihongo, called me "aniki," and stuffed me with sashimi and beer.
Seeing danger ahead, the freshly-opened liter of alcohol waved in my face, I had to say (in Japanese) the dirtiest, filthiest lie that I have ever in my life spoken.
"I'm sorry, I don't like sake."
Dodged a few more appetizers, acquiesced to another huge bottle of beer, and got my way out of there while still seeing single.
And to think I was starting to get bored of Tokyo.
Seeing danger ahead, the freshly-opened liter of alcohol waved in my face, I had to say (in Japanese) the dirtiest, filthiest lie that I have ever in my life spoken.
"I'm sorry, I don't like sake."
Dodged a few more appetizers, acquiesced to another huge bottle of beer, and got my way out of there while still seeing single.
And to think I was starting to get bored of Tokyo.