But I'm wasted here at Noboko's parent's house… and sitting on the damn floor for the past four hours (did I even take a whizz?)… wait… it was six-plus hours??? Man… no wonder I don't have any blood in my legs and can't stand… yeah… that's the reason…
I just had a great time at Noboko's parent's home - getting drunk with her dad who is the only obstacle to Noboko marrying me.
Only obstacle? Yes… even though I am only visiting Japan at this time, have no job either in Japan or in Canada, live with my parents in Toronto, and have no clue what I should do for a living… holy crap… I'm a mess… but… none of that matters… just Noboko… I just have to convince Noboko to either defy her father, or get her father to change his mind about having a gaijin for a son-in-law, and that his daughter's happiness means more to him than future job promotions.
In my defence, prior to coming back to Japan after my initial three-year stay, I chopped my hair off. Gone was the pony-tail. Gone was the beard. Gone was the undercover blues. In it's place, I looked younger (or less mature)... The beard only looked good when the hair was long...
Anyhow, the party is over..
I tell Noboko I have to use the washroom.
"Good. I didn't want to have to clean my car tomorrow."
She's a funny girl… even though she doesn't laugh at my suggestion that she come in and hold it for me.
There was just some muttering in Japanese…
Done… hands washed… hands wiped dry on my pants… at the front of the house, she bends over to helps me get my feet into my slip-on shoes…
"As long as you're down there…" I suggest half-hornily…
No response, though I'd swear I heard her mutter a string of Japanese expletives that included the word 'bakayaro'… which was one of the first Japanese words I ever learned. It means 'stupid idiot'.
I stumble out the door, and open the door to Noboko's car and sit down…
"I think I should drive," she suggests.
"Yes… I don't find the keys…"
More muttering… from her… and from me, as I chide myself for forgetting Japan is a right-hand drive country. It's her car, anyhow, plus she's not drunk, so she should definitely drive instead of me... especially that whole driving on the wrong-side of the road thing they do here.
I attempt to slide to the left to the passenger seat… but the manual stick shift is in the way (I used to love bench seats!)… so… I crawl out of the car, use the front hood as a crutch and move to the passenger side…
Inside, I roll the window down and stick my head out the window like a Chocolate Labrador - tongue lolling in the imaginary wind.
"Before we get going… do you want some gum?"
"Oh god, yes."
"That's 'oh goddess, yes'."
"You are a goddess, you know."
She laughs because she can. It's a lyrical laugh… and if I could bottle it and sell it so everyone could hear her, I would have… no one would be sad ever again.
"Do you want to spend the might at my place?" I grunt.
"You don't have a place."
"You are staying at Colin's apartment…"
"No… me Andrew…
"Are you horny?"
"Then you ARE Andrew."
We both laugh out loud… not that fake stuff in 2015 social media. She - because she's funny, and me - because I'm so incredibly… no… I'm fine… that WAS funny! I must be rubbing off on her.
"So… how'd we do tonight?"
"We? … I don't know how you can do that - you just turned your personality up even higher .. but I've never seen my father have such a good time…"
"It's because I'm awesome…"
"Yes, that's the reason. Do I have to take you to the hospital to have your stomach cleaned out?"
(I'll assume she meant 'pumped'.)
"Phhhht. (That was me doing that blowing-of-air-through-the-side-front-of-my-mouth thing to show derision - and not me making a farting sound - though that was also probably occurring... slowly and silently - which was the real reason I had immediately rolled the car window down.) No one in this country can outdrink me - certainly not your papa-san."
"So… he had a good time with me?" I ask, obviously not recalling much at that time.
"Yes… you know he does like you, An-do-ryu-kun… he just doesn't know know what to do about you, me or his job."
"It should only be about you… " (recall that is all I am concerned about, as I mentioned previously, I have no job, job prospects, and am living in my parent's house now back in Toronto... but that's until I get the whole wife-thing sorted out!)
Ugh! I can be such a conversation killer sometimes! Saying what I said upsets her, because she knows it is true... and the problem really exists because that's the way Japan has been... but she's smart enough to realize it shouldn't always be that way.
"We're here… "
I immediately reach for the car door handle and open it up and put a foot out… I'm toasted… but then I remember I should probably kiss her or something…
As my neurons fire, she reminds me: "You must be very drunk to forget about kissing me… is that the way things are going to be in the future? We get married and then you start seeing someone more beautiful than me?"
"Ha-ha-ha! I love how you think so highly of me… first that I would ever do something like that to you… after all, where am I going to find a prettier woman?
"Plus I like how you think I can find women just like that! You have been the only woman I have chased here in Japan. Everyone other woman...
"Chased me," we say in unison…. I guess I've slurred it many a-time before. All true, of course…
Thinking about it now… in Japan, where no gaijin is left unseen, how the hell would I ever get away with sleeping around on Noboko? People know their local gaijin... and I bet if he was doing something fun like sleeping around on his wife, the locals would talk amongst themselves.
"Look… I only drink nowadays when I have to. Have you seen me drunk when I'm with you and just you?"
"That's because I want to make sure I can always get my d@#k up to f$^& y@$!
I get hit in the arm for that as Noboko mumbles her Japanese curses at me. I really have to learn what the heck she is saying, one of these days. Or maybe not. Ignorance is bliss.
By the way, the little scream from me from her punch is all for show, of course… she's barely 5'-tall and is slightly built and she hits like a weak little girl - and you little girls out there know how hard a weak little girl can punch. Not very. Unless you get that nerve cluster spot up in the arm between the muscles…
Anyhow… I fall into her face, we kiss for several minutes… apparently the gum worked wonders… and she pulls away telling me to go…
I ask her to call me when she gets home so I know she made it back safely, but she correctly points out that I am staying at Colin's apartment and it's 1AM…
"Call me tomorrow," I tell her. "In the late afternoon," I wisely add.
She mutters more Japanese, smiles and waves to me.
There's no Japanese bow…
That's not a slight, by any means… it just means she is completely comfortable around me… She waved… we played tonsil hockey for a few minutes… the respect is there… she just doesn't have to be Japanese all the time when she's with me... she can just be Noboko.
I watch her slowly drive off, then fumble with the keys in Colin's lock… he opens door…
"Geez… so… I guess you guys had drinks… How'd it go?"
"He loves me, man."
Kidding… I didn't puke or even come close.
PS: Lyrics in the image above are by the group Semisonic. I write the blog first and then come up with an appropriate headline. The lyrics and title seemed apropo.