This Mom Finally Does A Night On The Town

Since the Peanut came along, it isn't often that you will find me out of the house past 9:00 pm.  Lame, yes.  But I am a parent now and proud of taking on that responsibility.  Being a parent, I get less invitations to party than I used to.  I don't think is totally to do with being a parent though, and more to do with the fact that many of my closest friends here and the ones that liked to go out a lot have actually moved on from Japan and find themselves partying in other corners of the world these days.  Either way, I'm happy with my early-to-bed, early-to-rise lifestyle.  But don't get me wrong.  When the invitation does come in, I rarely say no.  This would be exactly how I found myself out and about in Tokyo on a weeknight.

One of our couple friends has actually been here for the entire stint of our time here.  They are some of the few that still regularly head out for dinners with us and they are smitten over KP, which makes it all the more wonderful when he begins his evening meltdown in a public place.  They just throw on the funny faces and help us keep him mellow until we can make our escape to the car and home beyond.  These friends threw out an invitation to go see a friend of theirs that I had been introduced to years before and was quite taken with back then.  Her name is Hanaeryka Akechi, a Japanese and Mexican woman with a magnificent voice that matches her inner and outer beauty in exquisite perfection.  Hana has often performed in places around Tokyo, but I have missed many shows due to our travel schedule or simply having other plans in place when the invite came in.  Fearing that this might be one of my last opportunities, I told KH that there would be no missing this performance.  While KH is just as big on a night out as I am, he is not so big on it when it comes on a weeknight.  Then there was also a small problem of finding a babysitter.  For those that know KH, he is a bit... err... particular... about who is allowed to stay alone with our wee one.  Rightfully so.  His job has left him seeing some of the worst of society, so I have never fought him on this point.  The two that he trusts the most were exactly the ones that had given us the invite.  All this still didn't add up to me missing that show.  In the end, Kimono Hubby made it easy enough and told me to enjoy myself and he would happily head to bed at his regular hour.

Which is how I found myself heading out only a few short minutes before the baby would be calling it a night.  I caught the train and met up with the others in one of the middle cars around the Kamakura stop.  After an hour and ten, we arrived at the Sanjengaya Station.  Our map that was to take us to the bar, Grapefruit Moon, was all in Japanese of course, but thankfully we had one in our crowd who can read it and speak it.  You have no idea how much this helps when you are meandering down narrow, no-named Japanese streets in the dark.  After only a ten minute walk, we were surprised to find ourselves in front of the place.

Down the stairs, through a pitch black corridor, we came to a door.  From the outside of the door, you could barely hear anything.  When we opened the door, it was shocking to hear how loud the current performer truly was.

After being greeted and paying our 1,500 yen cover charge, which included the cost of one drink, I grabbed my mango sour and found my way back to a table in the back with the others.  Although the smallness of places in Japan no longer surprises me, as this didn't either, I must say that the website made the place look much bigger than it ended up being.  Towards the far wall, the current two performers were belting out some J-Pop tune while playing the piano and a guitar.  Three rows of tightly packed in chairs faced them and the three tables at the very back of the room was where we found our vantage point.  

As the singers crooned on, I realized that not a single person in the room besides ourselves was either talking or moving around.  They weren't even smoking!  And everyone in any bar I have ever seen has a constant lit cigarette dangling from their fingers or lips.  It seems that while the singers were at it, we were to remain completely silent and still.  This became a problem to me when I had downed my first sour and now the ice kept clinking around the glass.  If I was allowed to speak, I would have told the damn ice to hush.  Awkward.  Seriously.  

What concert or singing performance have you ever gone to that, even if you didn't dance and sing along, you probably mouthed the words?  Or at the very least, you swayed along!  Nothing like that here! 

The performance came to an end and the room came alive with sound and movement.  It was like they sat there dying for this moment to come.  There was a rush to the bar.  Lighters flashing in every corner.  And people simply readjusting their butt positions as they had surely gone numb in their stillness.  Since our little entourage had kind of already been talking and moving and certainly had caused a disturbance upon our confusion at the entrance fee and drink menu, it didn't much make a difference to us.  For the next performances however, I reminded myself to be a little less American and a little more Japanese.

I was ready when the next woman took the stage.  She sat in front of a keyboard, singing low and soft romantic melodies that melded her Japanese life with her time in New York.  I liked her.  She sang in English.  Sometimes.  

Then a break.  The rush for the bar.  Bathroom visits this time.  General shifting on our bar stools to stop the pain that was inching its way up our backsides.  

The next performance was apparently quite a famous lady.  Our Japanese speaking friend translated what she was saying, informing us that one of the songs she was singing was the theme song to some popular Japanese show of which she wrote and performed.  Her name I did happen to catch thanks to the CD she was selling at the bar.  It was Megumi Mori.  I liked her too.  

Right before Megumi started her performance, Hana's husband popped his head in to the room.  We called him over to say our hellos and tell him how excited we were to see Hana sing.  He sat with us through this performance, but then headed off when it was Hana's turn to take some pictures of the event.  Hana took the stage just after Megumi and she was everything I was hoping to hear.  With her heritage, she is fluent in both Japanese, Spanish and English.  She sang in a little of all three, bringing an international flair to her songs that none of the other previous singers had done.  Perhaps I am biased as I am so in awe of Hana, but she was the best of the evening.  While she sang, her accompanist played the guitar and sang background vocals.  I never got the chance to tell him how great I thought it all was.  

It was only moments after Hana ended her songs that we head to run out to catch the very last train home.  That remains a complaint of mine about Japan.  Why must the trains stop at midnight?  I am just too darn old to stay out all night and catch the 5 am trains, but I also don't feel I will turn into a pumpkin at the stroke of 12.  What choice did I have though to say a quick few words to Hana and her husband and then say my goodbyes before rushing off after my friends.  

We all separated at our respective stations.  When I jumped off in Zushi, I was just after midnight.  I wasn't really tired, but I was hungry.  I had told KH that I would call him before heading home to give him the ETA, but since a light buzz had made me forget that step and I knew he had long ago headed to bed, I figured the night was still mine.  

My favorite fast food place is open 24 hours.  I still couldn't tell you the name of it for the life of me and have only referred to it as the 'circle place' for the last four years.  It's impossible to go there anymore with KP in tow as there is only a bar with stools for seating and no place to even squeeze a stroller in.  Here was my perfect chance.  I sauntered in with many others who had also just gotten off the train, made my way to the machine, put yen in, and placed my order.  I scarfed down some sort of rice bowl and miso, topped with hot black tea.  It still was only about 1am, and the food had yet to settle and make me tired.  What's a girl to do, but then follow the crowd to the next stop on the nightly trudge home?  

I made my way with the others to the 7-11 conbini down the street and walked right up to the magazines that lined the window.  Just like the males I stood there with, I picked up a Japanese soft porn magazine and started leafing through it.  It really is interesting the kinds of things that are so openly put into print here in the country and yet they pride themselves for being so reserved and conformed.  Feeling I was getting the eye from more than a few people, I replaced the magazine and instead got myself a pastry and a Meiji chocolate bar, paid and then headed for the door.  Nibbling on a strawberry chocolate bar, I arrived back at home just around 2am.  Boy, did I pay for that all that dilly-dallying when the Peanut woke only a few short hours later.  And here was the reminder why going out all night long ain't so grand after all.  What an irresponsible parent.