Sunday, June 24, 2007
After a long day's work, many people in Japan go out and drink to blow off some steam. Bars and Clubs on Friday night are often packed full of people.
Before Brad and I traveled to Japan, our cultural session indicated that we may encounter a big drinking culture with the people we work with. It's not uncommon for bosses to take out interns, and buy them as many drinks as possible. In general, the Japanese believe that their guest should not have an empty glass, so they'll order more beer, more sake, until you very clearly say you've had enough. Brad and I work in a predominantly American Corporate Culture so we don't really encounter it as much, but for our neighbor, he gets taken out quite often by his co-workers or superiors.
This is where my adventure begins.
On June 15th, Patricia in the Tokyo Office set up a little after-work get together with Brad and I and our bosses. In total it was Me, Brad, Patricia, Peter (my boss), Jon (USC Alumni and marketing director for japanesepod), and Yukiko (President of Japan Times). We go to a trendy upscale bamboo bar in Roppongi called Xen.
Jon and I come a little late because of work, and found Yukiko, Patricia, and Brad to already have a beer in front of them. As soon as I sat down I found a beer in front of me. I hadn't eaten dinner and knew that having any alcohol would probably be a bad idea, so I just slowly sipped until we ordered some appetizers, so that I could get some food in my stomach.
When the food came, I tried to down as much as possible without taking too much more than my share as I whispered to Brad
"Dude...I might need to sneak you drinks tonight."
He said sure as I finished my first beer. Patricia asked me if I wanted another drink...and while waiting for me to respond called to the waiter to order a round of beers for everyone.
Okay, I thought to myself, two beers is not a problem...but I can already feel my face turning a little red, so i better drink this one really slow.
So I start sipping on this beer, as we order more food, and then Peter arrives. Peter comes in and since Peter is from New York and Brad is from New Jersey, they immediately hit it off. Like long-lost brothers they bantered and talked it up the entire night. Probably 30 or so minutes later, Peter pulls a waiter aside and mumbles something
"Bacardi...kdsjflkj...Amaretto..sdflkj"
And I think, oh, he must need something a little stronger. As I was finishing my beer, Peter shows 3 new beers and 3 double shot glasses filled with a reddish liquor. Inside the double shot glass was half Bacardi 151 and half Amaretto. Peter was about to introduce us to a "Flaming Dr. Pepper"
For a flaming Dr. Pepper, you have a shot glass full of Bacardi 151 and Amaretto, and you light it on fire. After you light the shot on fire, you drop it into a beer and down the whole thing. And it tastes like Dr. Pepper.
Staring at the glass, I felt like I was about to climb Mt. Fuji. I knew taking this Flaming Dr. Pepper would be a bad idea, and that I would probably be crawling home. Still, Brad and Peter were armed and ready and just waiting for me. I sucked it up and dropped my flaming shot glass into the beer and chugged. Brad and Peter downed it in a matter of seconds, while I got about 3/4ths down until I had to stop.
Suddenly Patricia got a call about another party that we could check out. By the time I left Xen, I was feeling it pretty good and knew that I was pretty much done for the night. Still, I hopped into the cab to go to a new location. When we got to the next place, it turns out the party had moved once again. So we hopped into another cab to go to this bar called "Propaganda."
Propaganda is a shot bar that a lot of foreigners hang out. We get in, and immediately Peter orders a round of beers for everyone. I take the beer, and take really small sips for the next hour. I'm still feeling pretty drunk, but totally in control, so I knew I wouldn't finish this beer, or even make a dent into it. I figured, as long as I have a drink in my hand that's full, they wouldn't order any more.
I also ordered a water so I could stay hydrated. Eventually I really had to pee and went into the bathroom. When I got back out, I look at the bar and Peter was holding shot glasses full of Tequila with a big smile on his face. I look at him and say..."No I really can't...I'll really be crawling home if I take that."
He says okay, and Brad and him down the shot, then divide the contents of my shot glasses into 3 portions. Now I'm only taking not even 1/3rd of a shot of tequila. I decide to be a good sport and take it. I down the shot, and when the liquid reaches my belly I immediately think "Uh Oh."
That tequila was the last straw...and I excuse myself as I rush back into the bathroom, get on my knees and pray to the porcelain god. I clean out the contents of my stomach, and immediately start to feel better. I come back out as they were just asking each other where I went. I order another water and immediately start to feel really sleepy. They tried handing me another beer but I said no. I hang out for another 30 minutes but am getting really tired so decide to take a cab home. By the way, it's only 11:30 pm.
I hop into the cab and get back to my apartment where I immediately start feeling sick again. I again do the toss my cookies. I feel a lot better after this and continue to drink water until I fall alseep.
In the morning, I feel fine, and Brad made it home alright.
When he woke up I asked him about his night.
Turns out after Propaganda, Jon and Brad went to an outside bar called Legends and had a little more to drink. In total he had about 15 shots at various times at night. By the time Brad got to Legends, he was way drunk. He had another beer, then Jon asked him if he needed something in his stomach. He said yes and they got a pita and Brad started to feel a little better. But then Brad said he had to go home so Jon called a taxi.
Brad and Jon got into the taxi and started to head home. All of a sudden Brad got really quiet and Jon heard the unzipping of his backpack, as Brad did the technicolor yawn all in his backpack.
When later he asked why he didnt' stop the cab or roll down the window, he just said
"I really didn't want to get the taxi dirty."
Eventually Brad got home and he dropped his backpack on the floor, then passed out in his bed.
So that's the story about how our bosses got us plastered. Needless to say, I'm not planning to do that ever again.
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