The other night I spent the whole night in a dream that consisted of three different versions of Swan Lake, one after another. I've never seen Swan Lake. I have only a vague idea what the plot is. But the first two versions had vampires! whee.

There are singles dating services in Japan which specialize in hooking up Japanese women with Western men. Huh.

So, I said something last time about telling you all (all four of you) what happened the weekend before. I'll skip the play by play as I've done in the past and just do a brief summary of Sunday morning. Suffice it to say the rave was... not, really. They were hoping for 5000 people and they got 500 and the promoters are pretty well in debt now. I spent the night hanging out with Christian missionaries (though two of them were among the most beautiful girls I've seen anywhere ever in my whole life dang but they was purty). Not much debauchery. But!

Sunday morning at 6am I found myself who knows where in the middle of Nagano-ken at a train station where trains don't stop, with a drunk/stoned Canadian DJ and his two buddies who don't speak any Japanese but somehow must be back in Tokyo by 9:30am.

We wait on this little platform and stand and watch with glazed eyes as two trains whiz past us without stopping. See, dipshit crazy Brazil guy dropped us off here instead of the train station I want to be at.

So DJ man says, "Hey, you wanna steal a car?" Other guy says, "You wanna?" So they see a nice old Japanese lady stopped at an intersection and start sauntering over there, giving every impression that they're gonna drag her out of the car and drive off.

But I convice them to come with me to a convenience store or something, and I'll get the people there to call a cab or something. So we wander around for a while, while DJ talks shit constantly, alternating between thanking me for helping them out and threatening to "sodomize you and send you home in a box."

And eventually we wander into a bar, and I get the owner to call a cab for us. All the while DJ continues to talk shit- loudly, in English. I can see the bar owner, a nice old guy, is afraid some stuff's gonna go down. But the cab comes before DJ goes completely insane, and I have the driver take us to a real station.

While waiting for the train, DJ tries to get me to take some of his Zanax, because I look "tense." Hey man, I'm just trying to get you back to Tokyo before you commit any felonies.

At some point DJ and crew realize that even if they had stolen a car, they wouldn't have known where to go. Not to mention they probably would have been caught pretty quick.

"Who took your car, ma'am?"

"They were white!"

So the train comes, finally, and we get on. DJ starts going off about how this is the most beautiful region in the world and how in the fall the leaves change 27 different colors, and how immoral people don't belong here, and... He intermixes this with lewd comments about the schoolgirls squealing loudly further down the car...

Anyway, I figure out these guys' train changes for them and stick them on a train to Shinjuku at 7am. Lord only knows what they would have done if I hadn't been there, and it was only dumb luck that I was.

DJ gives me his card and says if I'm ever in Roppongi to give him a call and he'll show me how to really party. Apparently this involves models who may or may not be naked and a lot of cocaine, but I'm not really sure on the particulars.

On the train back to Matsumoto I end up sitting with the aforementioned schoolgirls. They're all 14- no, 15 years and are going to a track meet in Matsumoto. Turns out in their squealings earlier they had been talking about us... Anyway, they take pictures with me, squealing anew when I put my arm around them for the flash. In the last picture I kiss the girl on the cheek right as the picture is taken. Delighted squeals reach new heights of frenzied energy. "The energy of the young," one of the girls calls it. They invite me to go watch their track meet. I decline, but in hindsight it would have been a surreal close to the events that preceeded it.

sunday morning is every day for all i care,

greyarea

Diaryland