Azabu Juban

Friday Night
No, that’s not the way to cast a magic spell, it’s a festival. It’s sort of like the San Gennaro festival in NYC, but more crowded. After work on Friday, I met Miki and we went to the Azubu Juban area. Since most of the foreign consulates are near this area, this festival features food from all over the world. Unfortunately, it was so mobbed that we would have had to wait in line for an hour to get any of the foreign food, so we settled for Japanese.
I had my first (and really, last) taste of okonomiyaki. It’s sort of like the greasiest omelet on the menu at Mel’s diner.
The base is made with flour, like a crepe, and it’s filled with soba noodles, cabbage, pickled radishes, pork, onions, etc. Then, they crack a few eggs into the mess, add some oil and throw it on the grill where they chop it up and fry it. When it’s good and cooked, they squeeze a big, fat layer of mayonnaise on top. Uh, yum? I ate a few bites to be a good sport, but I think it’s better left to the locals. Although, I would appreciate it later as a good base for all the drinking I was about to do.

Miki and I found a good spot curbside where we could watch the parade of freaks and families and get a partial view of the stage. On stage there was a sad, soulful singer and later a samba troupe. The samba girls were in full Showgirl regalia, but we were a little too far back in the crowd to get any good pictures.

But, I managed to get very close to ”The Destroyer.” What on earth a professional wrestler from the 80s was doing in Japan, I'll never know.


After the show, we met up with two of Miki’s friends, Shindy and Nao, and headed over to Roppongi Hills for a drink. Roppongi is home to a lot of the big international financial companies like Morgan Stanley and Goldman Sachs, so there are usually a lot of foreigners around. We went to a place called “Heartland” where the beers are cheap but the customers are not. We soon met up with a crew of foreign ex-pats who bought beers all around. One of the guys ended up being from Philadelphia and went to Villanova. Go Wildcats! After making sure I could get home on my own, Miki went home. Nao, Shindy, and I stayed on socializing with the Wildcat and some German TV news producers. Shindy is Korean. She speaks perfect Japanese and English, but nevertheless, a foreigner she be. So, when the Wildcat asked us if we wanted to go to another place for a couple of drinks and a great view of Tokyo, we said, “Issho ni ikimasu!” (Let’s go!)

Our first clue should have been when Nao refused to go with us, saying it was too far. The Wildcat said it was 10-15 minutes away. This, of course, was a lie. [Now, I must say this. If I was out with two girlfriends who were about to get into a cab with a stranger to destinations unknown, but known to be AN HOUR away, I would intervene. But that’s just me.] So, Shindy and I hopped into a cab with the Wildcat and started off to the lovely bayside town of Yokohama. If I’d had a map of Tokyo, I wouldn’t have been able to find Yokohama, because it’s not in Tokyo. It’s a whole ‘nother city.

When we got there, the Wildcat showed us where we could see “great views of Tokyo”: The Landmark Tower. It’s the tallest building in Japan and would have undoubtedly afforded the aforementioned great views. But, as it was 1:45 AM, it was closed and probably had been closed for hours. Shindy and I looked up at the building, looked around at the other, similarly closed building, then at each other and said, “What the hell are we doing here?”

The Wildcat was a harmless, allergic kind of guy, nerdy and awkward. He seemed to just want to be able to show off a little and take us on a walking tour of the waterfront. It was a nice night and we weren’t dead tired yet, so we humored him. It was really beautiful, much more so during the day I’m sure. We found the one place that was still open, Royal Host, kind of like IHOP. I had pancakes!

Finally, at 3:30AM, we told the Wildcat that we were ready to head back to civilization. He was bewildered. The trains start running at 5AM and he thought we’d just hang out until then. The cab ride was sure to be expensive. Shindy and I ignored him and hustled up to a hotel to ask the desk manager to get us a ride home. We left the Wildcat, clutching his briefcase and blowing his nose, and sped off toward the city.

Shindy and I split the cost of the $140 ride cab to her stop
and it was another $35 to get me back to my place. I got home just as the sun was coming up. One of my neighbors was out in front of his house doing tai-chi. My feet were swollen, my shoes were ruined, and my wallet was empty. But what price adventure?