My remember my first time going to a host club the way everyone remembers their first kiss. Except, I don't actually remember my first kiss...but that's beside the point. It was sometime in February 2011.
My lovely friend Santana (from Europe), who I didn't really know at the time and Lilly and I went. We were walking on the streets of Kabukicho (me feeling horribly uneasy) and did manage to get approached a couple times by pretty boys, but their turned down foreigners. In retrospect, I'm guessing it was my wide doe-eyed stare of fear that probably did us in.
Santana complained that hardly anyone was out that night, which was surprising because it was a weekend, I think, and also 8pm, which is a good time for going. And then...he found us.
The Hesitation.
The Hesitation needs his own paragraph. He was this short Japanese guy with a colored mowhawk and a terrifying face that I have yet to see on another host. One eye is much smaller than the other, and even if they were normal, he'd still be not a great sight to look at. Perhaps that sounds mean, but I'm just being honest. Even nowadays, I pass by him. Also, we call him The Hesitation because when I looked up the club on Host2Host and found him, google translated his name to that and I nearly died laughing. He's infamous to us now.
He had begged us to go, but we were hesitant given his....look. He insisted there were a lot of ikemen (beautiful men), and so we all finally agreed.
Me: Lilly....are they all going to look that? Is that how hosts look? The posters don't look like that!
Lilly: God, I hope not....we'll just run.
They, fortunately, were mostly rather attractive.
My Japanese....sucked. It still sucks. But then, it really REALLY sucked. We were the first customers in that night, and the hosts were all shocked to see us. I was sat in between my two friends on the long couch, and the hosts sat in chairs across from us. The first host, bless his heart, put in quite an effort to make conversation and used all sorts of crazy hand motions. The only conversation I remember with him was him trying to make me understand something about LA having guns and making a gun with his hands and shouting BANG! At the end of the night, I picked him to walk me out.
At some point in the night, I joined Lilly's conversation with two hosts which got on the subject of penises. Little did I know what a common topic that would become for me. But I degress...
One host insisted his friends (the rather stocky host next to him) was quite well-endowed. Both Lilly and I were really curious, and I insisted she should pick him and then take one for the team so we would know for sure, which she did....and he didn't. But even to this day, we call him BP (Big Penis).
The Hesitation also sat next to Lilly for a while attempting to canoodle his way to a hotel with her, which I found amusing and she found horrifying.
Afterward, I wasn't sure exactly what I'd just experienced...but I knew that I wanted to get better at Japanese and try it again.
~W. Anon
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Sometimes you have to love online Quizzes
| What Type of Japanese girl are you? |
The Unattainable Dream Woman  |
Fun quizzes, surveys & blog quizzes by  |
HAHAHAHA
Sure, I'll pretend that's me.
The Shortest Host Club Introduction Possibly Ever Written
If I had to estimate how many host clubs I've been to in the past 5 months, I'd say around....25, perhaps? All of these except one were located in Kabukichou, Tokyo's infamous Red Light District.
Here's a super quick introduction to hosts clubs:
Step 1: You wander Kabukichou, get creeped on by various old men and Nigerians, and then eventually a host might come up to you and offer a flyer for his club. Host clubs are usually 500 to 1000 yen for one or two hours your first visit. This first visit is called shoukai.
Step 2: You find the club. Normally, for legal reasons, the boys may not walk you there, and thus you get the joy of wandering back alleys by yourself. In my case, I did this with a friend or two. Safety in numbers, ladies. Upon finding the place, you show your ID at the front. You must be at least 20 to enter these clubs, and they are very strict about that. The boys, however, are not kept to the same standard. The youngest I've seen is 18, but I swear there've been 16-year-olds. Hard to tell with these pretty Japanese boys, sometimes.
Step 3: You sit, get a warm towel to wipe your hands on, and someone asks what you want to drink for the night. You get all you can drink (I always go with a milk tea and shochu combo). The hosts rotate throughout your time, handing you business cards with their name (a fake) and a cool design, or, if they are higher level hosts, their picture on it. There's flirting, drinking games, and amazement at the fact that you are foreign, speaking Japanese, and actually in a host club. Many of the clubs I've been to have never had a foreigner there before, in fact.
Step 4: At the end, you get to choose whichever guy you liked best to walk you out and exchange numbers/mail with so he can entice you to come back and shimmei him. This is far more expensive, as you are actually paying for this guy's time so he can come and sit with you. However, you will not be able to go back to the same club again without paying a higher price. This is why I've been so many.
So there's the quick and dirty version of a first-time visit to a host club.
I try to keep the meishi (business cards) each host gives from each club. Once I find them, my goal is to write an entry on them.
<3 W. Anon
 |
| Bottom left corner. Its Blue Steel from Zoolander! |
Here's a super quick introduction to hosts clubs:
Step 1: You wander Kabukichou, get creeped on by various old men and Nigerians, and then eventually a host might come up to you and offer a flyer for his club. Host clubs are usually 500 to 1000 yen for one or two hours your first visit. This first visit is called shoukai.
Step 2: You find the club. Normally, for legal reasons, the boys may not walk you there, and thus you get the joy of wandering back alleys by yourself. In my case, I did this with a friend or two. Safety in numbers, ladies. Upon finding the place, you show your ID at the front. You must be at least 20 to enter these clubs, and they are very strict about that. The boys, however, are not kept to the same standard. The youngest I've seen is 18, but I swear there've been 16-year-olds. Hard to tell with these pretty Japanese boys, sometimes.
Step 3: You sit, get a warm towel to wipe your hands on, and someone asks what you want to drink for the night. You get all you can drink (I always go with a milk tea and shochu combo). The hosts rotate throughout your time, handing you business cards with their name (a fake) and a cool design, or, if they are higher level hosts, their picture on it. There's flirting, drinking games, and amazement at the fact that you are foreign, speaking Japanese, and actually in a host club. Many of the clubs I've been to have never had a foreigner there before, in fact.
Step 4: At the end, you get to choose whichever guy you liked best to walk you out and exchange numbers/mail with so he can entice you to come back and shimmei him. This is far more expensive, as you are actually paying for this guy's time so he can come and sit with you. However, you will not be able to go back to the same club again without paying a higher price. This is why I've been so many.
So there's the quick and dirty version of a first-time visit to a host club.
I try to keep the meishi (business cards) each host gives from each club. Once I find them, my goal is to write an entry on them.
<3 W. Anon
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Men's Egg Night-April 2011
Last Sunday was Men's Egg night at Club Atom, my favorite event. Why? Because the Men's Egg models infest the place with their gyaru-o hotness and DJ. Men's Egg is the most popular magazine amongst followers of the gyaruo fashion and lifestyle. What is gyaruo? See below:
Other than the eye candy, the night was rather uneventful, so Lucy (my in-Japan bffl) and I decided to go. We were the only ones in the elevator, and instead of taking us to the bottom floor, it somehow stopped on floor 2, one of the VIP floors. The doors opened to reveal several of the models, who looked at us like "wtf white girls?". The model in the very front was Daichi Tanaka, who happens to be one of my favorites. Go figure. The elevator doors would close part of the way, and then open, then close, then open, and all the while we stared with idiotic looks on our faces and they stared back in confusion. Then, in my infinite intelligence, I saw that a bag I assumed belonged to Daichi was in the way. I pointed and stuttered out an "a-ano..." but before he could do anything about it Lucy kicked it slightly, shutting the doors and allowing me to finally breathe a sigh of relief before we both burst out into a fit of laughter.
Obviously I found this to be extremely exciting because I wrote an entire paragraph on something that happened within the span of 10 seconds. Eh, what can I say? I'm a fangirl sometimes. Unfortunately.
Since then, though, Atom has only had one floor open (and its the cruddiest floor) so I've been spending far too much time in Kabukichou. Which isn't all bad. Mostly just bad for my wallet. -__-;;
<3 WrittenAnon
Other than the eye candy, the night was rather uneventful, so Lucy (my in-Japan bffl) and I decided to go. We were the only ones in the elevator, and instead of taking us to the bottom floor, it somehow stopped on floor 2, one of the VIP floors. The doors opened to reveal several of the models, who looked at us like "wtf white girls?". The model in the very front was Daichi Tanaka, who happens to be one of my favorites. Go figure. The elevator doors would close part of the way, and then open, then close, then open, and all the while we stared with idiotic looks on our faces and they stared back in confusion. Then, in my infinite intelligence, I saw that a bag I assumed belonged to Daichi was in the way. I pointed and stuttered out an "a-ano..." but before he could do anything about it Lucy kicked it slightly, shutting the doors and allowing me to finally breathe a sigh of relief before we both burst out into a fit of laughter.
Obviously I found this to be extremely exciting because I wrote an entire paragraph on something that happened within the span of 10 seconds. Eh, what can I say? I'm a fangirl sometimes. Unfortunately.
Since then, though, Atom has only had one floor open (and its the cruddiest floor) so I've been spending far too much time in Kabukichou. Which isn't all bad. Mostly just bad for my wallet. -__-;;
<3 WrittenAnon
Sunday, April 3, 2011
The Beginning of A Shibuya Love Affair
I still have yet to go to a club in the states. In SoCal if I drink alcohol then I’m at a house party and its generally vodka, malibu, jager and various fruit juices. Usually, I don’t drink those all at once (except on special occasions). I’m fortunate (or unfortunate depending on how you see it) to have a very high tolerance for alcohol (similar to a horse if a horse were to drink I imagine), since I have a lot of Scots-Irish in me. And German. Over the past 8 months it has at times been a blessing from the heavens, and at other times a terrible, terrible curse.
The very first club I went to was in Tokyo. I’d heard about it from a guy friend at the dorm I was living in at the time. Imagine around 60 people of various heritage, age, gender and temperament sharing one kitchen and 8 showers. Yeah. It wasn’t the greatest time of my life. He wasn’t the clubbing type by any means, but said that this one was pretty cool. Its called Club Atom. He said it was four or five floors of awesome in Shibuya. Smoke machines, different themes and music genres on each floor.... and lasers.
I bugged various friends at the time to go with me, but everyone complained about a lack of money. Understandable. But I still secretly hated them for it. My friend Kelly** said she wanted to go, and was willing to spend the 4000 yen (around $43) to get in. This was back in late September, and I can’t quite remember exactly how we found the place, because I was born missing whatever internal compass most people seem to have and have been known to get lost when following a GPS. Its tragic. Turns out, if you go before midnight, its only 1000 yen and you get two free drink tickets.
There are two things that really stand out about my first clubbing experience even now. Within ten minutes, she and I each had a gyaruo boy (google the style, its epic) and within the half hour we were dancing/making out with them. We also came to realize it was only 3 floors of awesome. I’m pretty sure various other crazy hijinks happened, but my next memory is of us overlooking Shibuya Crossing from the 2nd story of Starbucks, frazzled and looking a hot mess, in utter shock and confusion of what we’d just witnessed/done. I was also in shock that I had danced. I don’t dance. Ever. At my senior prom I did that retarded dance teenage girls do where they hold hands and move them around in the air. But when I saw that 1/3 of the people were just bobbing their heads, and the majority were way worse than I feel I ever could be, I felt a bit of a confidence boost and just did it. Nothing crazy, but now I really enjoy being able to dance off at least some of the carbs from all that booze.
I’ve been to Club Atom faaaar too many times to count since then. I once went four days in a row. And that isn’t bragging, its more of a shameful admission. I’ve tried a few other clubs, but nothing is quite like that club. Its probably because it seems to be where all the gyaruo and host boys go in Shibuya, and they just tend to get crazy when they get alochol. Meat markets make the best clubs, really.
Kelly and I were partners in..uh....clubbing clear up until the end of the semester in December. I went with other friends, too, and sometimes even in a group, but she and I were a near constant when it came to that club. At that point I had long red hair, and she had blond hair, and together we just seemed to be a good mix for getting Japanese guys to talk to us. I was more edgy, she was more cute. Yin and yang...kinda.
So, that was my first real “night life” experience. I remember thinking it was one of the best nights I’d ever had because it was just so random and weird and fun, but I had 7 more months to realize I hadn’t seen anything yet...
Because when it comes to Tokyo, it seems that just when you think you can’t be surprised by anything, an old man dressed in a lolita dress walks by you giggling with a teenage girl in the same dress in Harajuku while you eat your crepe and try to ignore the man doing the robot in a pink spandex body suit.
<3 WrittenAnon
The very first club I went to was in Tokyo. I’d heard about it from a guy friend at the dorm I was living in at the time. Imagine around 60 people of various heritage, age, gender and temperament sharing one kitchen and 8 showers. Yeah. It wasn’t the greatest time of my life. He wasn’t the clubbing type by any means, but said that this one was pretty cool. Its called Club Atom. He said it was four or five floors of awesome in Shibuya. Smoke machines, different themes and music genres on each floor.... and lasers.
I bugged various friends at the time to go with me, but everyone complained about a lack of money. Understandable. But I still secretly hated them for it. My friend Kelly** said she wanted to go, and was willing to spend the 4000 yen (around $43) to get in. This was back in late September, and I can’t quite remember exactly how we found the place, because I was born missing whatever internal compass most people seem to have and have been known to get lost when following a GPS. Its tragic. Turns out, if you go before midnight, its only 1000 yen and you get two free drink tickets.
There are two things that really stand out about my first clubbing experience even now. Within ten minutes, she and I each had a gyaruo boy (google the style, its epic) and within the half hour we were dancing/making out with them. We also came to realize it was only 3 floors of awesome. I’m pretty sure various other crazy hijinks happened, but my next memory is of us overlooking Shibuya Crossing from the 2nd story of Starbucks, frazzled and looking a hot mess, in utter shock and confusion of what we’d just witnessed/done. I was also in shock that I had danced. I don’t dance. Ever. At my senior prom I did that retarded dance teenage girls do where they hold hands and move them around in the air. But when I saw that 1/3 of the people were just bobbing their heads, and the majority were way worse than I feel I ever could be, I felt a bit of a confidence boost and just did it. Nothing crazy, but now I really enjoy being able to dance off at least some of the carbs from all that booze.
I’ve been to Club Atom faaaar too many times to count since then. I once went four days in a row. And that isn’t bragging, its more of a shameful admission. I’ve tried a few other clubs, but nothing is quite like that club. Its probably because it seems to be where all the gyaruo and host boys go in Shibuya, and they just tend to get crazy when they get alochol. Meat markets make the best clubs, really.
Kelly and I were partners in..uh....clubbing clear up until the end of the semester in December. I went with other friends, too, and sometimes even in a group, but she and I were a near constant when it came to that club. At that point I had long red hair, and she had blond hair, and together we just seemed to be a good mix for getting Japanese guys to talk to us. I was more edgy, she was more cute. Yin and yang...kinda.
So, that was my first real “night life” experience. I remember thinking it was one of the best nights I’d ever had because it was just so random and weird and fun, but I had 7 more months to realize I hadn’t seen anything yet...
Because when it comes to Tokyo, it seems that just when you think you can’t be surprised by anything, an old man dressed in a lolita dress walks by you giggling with a teenage girl in the same dress in Harajuku while you eat your crepe and try to ignore the man doing the robot in a pink spandex body suit.
<3 WrittenAnon
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Hi There
Its about 4:30 in the am here in Southern California. I've been here for about a week and a half after being forced back to my homeland by my panic-stricken parents after the earth quake, tsunami, volcanic eruption and nuclear meltdown occured in Japan. Two of those four didn't affect me in the slightest.
Anyhoo, as I sat here attempting to stay awake and trying to remember why exactly I thought staying up all night was a good idea, I thought about creating a blog I could hopefully stick to. Normally I start one trying to record my daily life for myself to look back on and (as I imagine) chuckle at my naiveté during these times and reminisce and all that jazz. It never does work quite the way I want.
So I decided to give this blog a purpose. And that purpose is for me to record (and sensor where needed) my weekends (and weeknights sometimes) and all the shenanigans I get myself into. Already I've lived in Tokyo nearly 8 months, so a lot of fun little details I've lost. I'm going to try and start from the beginning and work my way forward, while also recording my current nights in between.
If someone happens to find it entertaining, then awesome. If not, then I certainly will find it entertaining later on life. Its a win-win really.
So, here goes another attempt at a blog! ^_^
~W. Anon
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