Thank you and no hard feelings, I hope, for my stupid posts this week.
So, what do you do on Christmas and New Years?
No hard feelings at all.
My first New Years here, I walked around in the Tokyo night.
Seeing all the people running from place to place, shouting and laughing, I felt a strange disconnect, as though I were a ghost passing through. As the night flowed on, I walked on with it towards the morning. I must've smoked half a pack of cigarettes. I stopped in at various bars for drinks. Studying the faces of the patrons, rowdy with drink and celebrations, it struck me again that I was alone in a strange land, far away from home. I don't know how much ground I covered in that one night. I wanted to be alone and to seek out those who were alone like me, so I kept on walking, wearing the night down.
Surely enough, as the crowds faded, they left behind people in their wake. Walking through a residential district, I heard soft sobs coming from the entrance of an apartment block. There was a girl sitting there with her knees tucked up against her; as I passed by she looked up and stared out at me through eyes rimmed with tears. I had the feeling of two ships passing each other on a dark winter's night, sliding soundlessly across a black carpet of water.
The last train would be soon, so I headed towards the sounds of the main streets. By the time I reached the stairs leading down to a station, the bottom was dark; I'd missed it. There was a salaryman sitting on the top step, his leather briefcase between his legs. He neither looked up nor acknowledged my presence. I asked him if he would like a cigarette, but he was probably too drunk to respond. In his stupor, I doubt he even heard me.
I lingered around the stairwell for a while longer, and I felt a pain around my midsection. It occurred to me that I hadn't eaten in a long time. There was a ramen shop near the baseball stadium in this area that I was sure would be open at a time like this, so I wandered off in search of the stadium. After walking around the stadium for a while I spotted its glowing yellow signboard, partially obscured by foliage. There was a ticket machine where I bought a ticket for a standard sized ramen, and another ticket for an egg. The gruff, large man near the ticket machine grunted as he took my tickets and gestured towards the standing counter. He appeared to be a part of the shop, I was sure that he never took an off day. I wondered when and where he slept, if at all.
He'd poured a glass of tea for me and set it down on the counter, but my feet were killing me.
"Upstairs," I said, and went up the stairs. He grunted again, seemingly annoyed that I'd inconvenienced him, then took my tea and followed me up.
I sat down on a seat overlooking the street. The big man put down the glass of tea strongly, and called out my order. They had two chefs at this ramen shop, apparently, an upstairs chef and a downstairs chef.
"How would you like your noodles?" asked the upstairs chef.
"Hard," I replied.
There was an old man a few seats to my left. He wore old wire frame glasses and was staring into his empty bowl. I ignored him. Two punk kids were sitting on my right, thoroughly enjoying their ramen. The one with the green streaks in his hair was making indecent slurping noises. I'd heard loud slurps before, but this kid was taking inappropriate action towards those noodles.
Curiously for this time of night, there was also a young girl. She was probably younger than elementary school age. Her father was passed out over a table, but nobody seemed to care. When she caught my eye, she smiled. I was reminded of my own younger sister, thousands of miles away, and I smiled back at her.
I was thinking about my sister, and then there was a bowl of ramen in front of me. I had no recollection of anyone bringing it, but I ate anyway. It was all salt and thickness. I put a few spoonfuls of chopped green onions and oil into it. The broth was too heavy, so I left most of it. I wiped my mouth and downed the rest of my tea, and then left.
Despite the brief respite from walking, my feet were crying for me to stop the minute I stood up. There were plenty of taxis parked outside the entrance of the ramen shop, but the place where I was staying was not too far away, so I followed the big overhead signs to my district. When I got to my apartment building, all the lights in all the windows were out. There was a little light illuminating the name of the building. I pressed the magnetic key against the lock and went in. Unlocked my apartment door and stepped into the darkness. I couldn't bother with getting undressed, and lay down on the bed on top of the covers. My head was swirling with hazy thoughts. I tried bringing them into focus, but they kept eluding me one by one. At some point I must have fallen asleep, and when I woke up, another year had passed.
Sorry for the long post. When I get started, I can't stop, which is why I try not to get started in the first place.
