by R W Sowrider
“Wonderful,” Francesco said, flatly. “How about on the lady front. Any updates there?”
“Yes and no. I’ve still been hanging out with Yuma and not only is she a great girl, she also really enjoys giving massages and head.”
“She’s great at both.”
“What?!” Rowen exclaimed, unable to believe his ears.
“I mean, I bet she’s good at both. You could just tell, you know? From how she looked at the kyaba-kura and how she moved. She had a very sensual vibe.”
“Right, yeah. So anyhoo, she’s a really great girl, but she’s a little possessive. I get the sense that she’s trying to dig her claws into me. I don’t really know why, maybe she thinks I’m gonna take care of her or something, but whenever I pull back a little, things go downhill fast.”
“Really?! Like what?”
“Well, again, she’s usually really great, but every once in a while we fight and one of them was really bad. She was saying some shit that she must have pulled from a shitty after-school TV special. Like, ‘Just push me down the stairs and it’s over. But you don’t have the guts!’ Shit like that.”
“Oh dude, sounds like you got a Fatal Attraction psycho on your hands.”
“But she really is a sweet girl. And to be honest, the fight was probably my fault. For making her feel insecure. She said ‘I love you’ to me when I was drunk and then she asked how I felt. I started rambling awkwardly about how I can’t seem to fall for anyone since high school and how my heart always grows cold; some weird shit like that.”
“What about that chick from the international party? You were completely gaga over her.”
“Yeah, I guess I’ve fallen pretty hard for her, but I don’t think bringing that up would have helped the situation. The bottom line is that I should probably break it off with Yuma, but I don’t wanna break her heart. Because, for the most part, she really is a good girl.”
“You gotta do what you gotta do, man,” Francesco said, finishing his Double Chalupa.
Rowen polished off the last bite of his Cheesy Gordita Crunch. “You still hungry?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too. But it’s insane how much more expensive Taco Bell is here than in the U.S. The prices have gotta be like double.”
“Yeah, it’s total crap.”
** *
Utterly satisfied and completely worn out, Francesco blew a huge cloud of smoke at the ceiling. “Damn, that was some seriously acrobatic stuff you threw in there today.”
“I’ve been doing yoga,” Yuma replied.
“I don’t know what those yogis had in mind when they came up with that shit, but God bless ’em.”
Francesco and Yuma puffed their cigarettes as their heart rates slowly returned to normal.
“You won’t believe what Rowen said to me the other day,” Yuma said, turning toward Francesco and propping herself up on an elbow.
“What’s that?”
“He fuckin’ said that he hasn’t been able to fall in love with someone since his high school sweetheart.”
“That’s weird. What prompted that?”
“Oh, you know. I told him I loved him and blah blah blah.”
“Well, that’s a weird reply. Kinda cold, actually.”
“Right?! What a dick.”
“Was he drunk?”
“Very.”
“Well, there you have it. When he’s drunk, he thinks he’s the king of the world, God’s gift to women. So he was probably thinking that he needed some kind of excuse to keep things light between you two.”
Yuma’s face scrunched up in frustration. “Light, huh? I was kinda hoping he’d start coming around.”
“You never know, he may. Just try to give him a little space.”
“What does he say about me?”
“About you? Nothing. He keeps his relationship stuff close to his chest. Kinda strange, actually. You’d think he’d talk about it a little more.”
** *
“Kanpai,” Francesco said, holding his draft of Heineken up in the air.
“To Emi,” Rowen said, referring to their Hooters server. “What she lacks for in cleavage, she more than makes up for in charisma.”
After taking a gulp of beer and devouring a blue cheese-drenched boneless chicken wing, Rowen once again held up his mug. “Kanpai!”
“Didn’t we just do this?” Francesco replied.
“This one’s to me.”
“I’ll pass.”
“But you’re looking at the newest addition to the host club ranks.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.” Rowen lifted his beer a notch higher. “To the Great White Host!”
“Well, to the Great White Host it is then,” Francesco said, clinking Rowen’s glass and shaking his head in amazed disbelief. “How’d you make it happen?”
“I don’t really remember.`”
“What?!”
“I was really drunk. It’s all a big blur, but I basically just showed up at the GPS point that Trevor input into my cell phone and the rest is history.”
“Oh, nice. So Trevor hooked you up?”
“Yeah. He got me an in at a club that he said was right up my alley.”
“How was the club?”
“Great! I mean, I can’t recall it all that well, but I remember being welcomed with open arms. No applications, no interviews, no Japanese language tests, no nothing.”
“Sounds perfect for you. ”
“Yeah, they totally recognized my ability at first glance.”
“And the novelty of being a white guy with blue eyes probably didn’t hurt.”
“No. Not at all. I think that may have actually helped me somewhat. Anyhoo, it was awesome. I remember chugging Budweiser tall boys with everyone, and then people spraying suds all over the place like we had just won the World Series. And I was totally the center of attention.”
“Do you mean you were the center of attention like everyone was fascinated by you? Or like everyone was dumping their beer on you.”
“You know, I don’t really recall all that well. Maybe a little of both. But they were definitely asking me all kinds of questions. And everyone was definitely awesome. The dudes were really cool and fun to drink with and the chicks were totally hot and wild.”
“I don’t wanna rain on your parade – well, actually, I don’t really mind raining on your parade – but you mentioned you were really drunk. Are you sure you can trust your memory that all the chicks were ‘totally hot and wild?’”
“Good point. I have to admit that my history in judging the attractiveness of women when completely shit-housed is sketchy at best.”
“But you definitely got a job?”
“Yeah, definitely. I 100% recall them saying that I could come back at any time. Mostly because I woke up drenched in one of the bathroom stalls and the guy that was still on duty at the crack of dawn said so.”
“That’s great, man. Sounds like you should get some good stories for your book.”
“I sure hope so. But it definitely means I’ve got to break it off with Yuma because it’s not fair to her.”
“Why not?”
“Dude, we’ve been through this. Because of all the sleeping with girls I’ll have to do. ”
“Yeah, but she’s a hostess. She’s in the exact same boat as you.”
“No, dude. It’s different.”
“How so?”
“Because she loves me.”
“Really?!”
“Yeah, she says it to me all the time. And she’s always hugging all over me and saying that she misses me when we’re not together. I mean, it’s gonna kill her. It’s gonna absolutely devastate her, but I’ve got to do it because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Sounds rough, bro. But if she’s that madly in love with you, you should probably literally kill her because that would be easier on her. It would be the nice thing to do.”
As Francesco’s possibly sarcastic words sunk in, Rowen’s f
acial expression went from Do-you-have-to-serve-prison-time-for-mercy-a-killing? to What’s-the-least-painful-way-to-kill-someone-from-the-killer’s-perspective? to Dude-get-the-fuck-outta-here-No-way-am-I-killing-someone. “Dude, get the fuck outta here! You know I can’t kill her.”
“Alright, then you should marry her. No doubt. I mean, it sounds like you got a good thing going. She’s a hostess so she’ll understand whatever you gotta do as a host, plus she loves giving massages and head. You put a ring on that, Rowen! You put a ring on that shit as fast as you can!”
***
“Well, this is a far cry from Club Cirrus,” Rowen said out loud to himself as he looked at the sign above the decaying entrance of the host club to which he now belonged.
While not sober, Rowen was not nearly as drunk for his second visit, so his brain was able to absorb the surroundings .
Once again arriving safely thanks to the GPS point that Trevor had plugged into his cell phone, he was surprised to see that the vast majority of the light bulbs on the marquee were either burnt out, missing, or shattered. Nonetheless, he was able to make out the club’s name.
Club Cirrhosis
Rowen questioned the owner’s judgment in giving the establishment such a pessimistic name, but at the same time, he respected its honesty.
I just hope it has a better ring to it in Japanese and that no one has a clue what it means , he thought to himself.
Despite it being prime business hours, Rowen was surprised to see damp cardboard boxes strewn about the entrance and crumpled beer cans here and there.
When he walked through the entrance, he heard music coming from the main room but there was no one at reception. He slowly took in the sights and smells.
A beaded curtain to the main room looking more like the dreads of a homeless Rastafarian.
Used condoms entwined in the mop, which looked to be the only cleaning implement in the club.
Stale beer.
Vomit.
“Lake Titicaca!”
Rowen turned his head to find a host spreading the curtain dreads open and beaming at him. “Hi. I’m Rowen. Do you remember me?”
“Yeah! You’re Lake Titicaca!”
“I’m sorry?”
“You said you wanted to be called Lake or Rake or something, so we went with the host name, Lake Titicaca.”
Rowen smiled uncomfortably. “Wonderful.”
“How are you? Are you sick? You don’t seem very energetic. ”
“No, I’m fine. I uhhh …”
The host held out a Budweiser tall boy. “You need some more fuel?”
Rowen’s mouth instinctively made a sucking motion like a newborn lusting after his mother’s nipple. “Yes, please!”
The host flung the can at Rowen, who managed to catch the lukewarm beer at his feet.
“C’mon in,” the host said, waving. “Time for work.”
Rowen followed him into the main room where the smell emitting from the bathrooms mixed with the toxic cloud of stale beer and vomit.
Faux leather sofas with rips and tears were scattered about at random. A single spotlight flickered in the corner, illuminating the cloud of cigarette smoke hovering over the room. Budweiser cans, empty, full, and everywhere in between, were strewn all over the place.
A handful of hosts sat lethargically on sofas while a few misfit customers did likewise.
“So, what was your name again?” Rowen asked the host who had just greeted him.
“Maxima.”
“Okay, cool. Nice to meet you, Maxima … again.”
Maxima smiled and offered Rowen a seat against the wall, then sat down next to him. Across from them was a thickset girl with pigtails, thick eyebrows, and a prominent snaggletooth.
“This is my customer, Ms. Welltree.”
Rowen smiled politely. “I’m Lake Titicaca. It’s nice to meet you.”
Ms. Welltree perked up a bit. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“May we have a couple drinks?” Maxima asked.
“Sure,” Ms. Welltree replied, leaning down to pluck a couple tallboys out of her 12-pack.
Rowen popped open the one from earlier but made sure to accept the ‘fresh’ one from her and set it on the table in front of him. “Boy, this place is very unique. ”
“In Japan,” Maxima explained. “Unique is not really a good thing.”
“Roger that,” Rowen replied with a nod. “So I’m not seeing any shochu on the table. Do you guys not serve that here?”
“That’s right. Just Budweiser.”
“I see. And I suppose you save the good stuff for the champagne calls?”
“Nope, not here. Everything is just Budweiser.”
“But I thought that was how the customers paid. They pay a fuckton of money for a cheap bottle of champagne and the host and club split the profit.”
“Nope, not here. Everything is Bud. Our customers bring cases of tallboy cans and we drink it.”
“Oh no,” Rowen said, burying his head into his hands.
“What’s wrong?”
Rowen looked at Maxima in great distress. “I came here to live out my dream. The dream of being paid to party and sleep with Japanese girls.”
“I’ll pay you to sleep with me,” Ms. Welltree chimed in.
“Really?” Rowen replied, encouraged by the development. “At like a love hotel?”
Ms. Welltree shook her head. “Nah, a bathroom stall here would work just fine.”
Rowen felt a little disappointed but was not wholeheartedly against the idea. “Are you gonna pay me in Budweiser tallboys?”
“I can switch it up if you like. Leave a little bill on the toilet seat if the job is done well.”
Rowen mulled it over a second. “Okay, deal. Just lemme polish off a few beers first.”
“Sure, take your time.”
As the alcohol worked its magic, Rowen felt a surge of adrenaline and euphoria. “This is gonna be the most epic book ever!”
** *
“There’s something different about you,” Trevor said to Rowen as he handed him a fresh pint of Guinness at one of his favorite drinking haunts in Shibuya.
Rowen did indeed have an air about him that was much different than when he had arrived in Tokyo reeking of desperation. Today, he was full of pomp, pretension, and arrogance. Mainly due to the fact that he was wearing a scarf and sunglasses indoors.
“I’m just about done with the book,” Rowen boasted.
“That’s great, bro. Kanpai!”
They clinked glasses and Rowen slugged down about half of his beer. “Coupling your experience with mine, I’ve had more than enough material to write a literary masterpiece.”
Trevor attempted to hold back a derisive laugh, but failed.
“What are you laughing about, man? I’m serious.”
“I’m sorry,” Trevor replied, doing his best to put on a straight face. “I’m sure it’ll be great if you’re able to just write down what I’ve told you word for word.”
A smug smile materialized on Rowen’s face. “If I’m gonna win a Pulitzer, I’ve got to add some panache.”
“Okay, whatever.”
“But seriously, man. Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you. You helped me live out the dream of being a successful host and the dream of writing a smash-hit novel about it. Now there’s just one thing left.”
Rowen paused, waiting for Trevor to bite. Trevor, on the other hand, had a sip of beer while scrolling through text messages on his cell phone.
“The dream of all dreams,” Rowen continued. “The most honorable and virtuous dream known to man.”
Rowen paused again.
Trevor looked up in irritation. “Okay, already. What is it?!”
“It’s Sera, man. She’s my dream . The destiny I was put on Earth to fulfill is being with her so we can both have true happiness.”
“Sounds great,” Trevor replied, glancing back down at his cell phone.
“But I’m afraid of hurting Y
uma by breaking up with her. I mean, she’ll probably throw herself in front of a train, but I’ve gotta do it.”
“Who’s Yuma again?”
Rowen clicked his tongue. “That hostess I’ve been seeing. It’ll tear me up inside to shatter her poor heart, but it has to be done. To get to Heaven, you gotta go through Hell.”
“I’m not sure you do.”
“Yes, you do. And my only chance at true happiness is to confess my feelings to Sera with a clear conscience. To put myself out there. Then the rest is up to Fate.”
“Sera probably has a say in it, too.”
“Alright, that’s enough, smart guy,” Rowen said, raising his Guinness high in the air. “Let’s just drink to the pursuit of eternal love!”
***
After finishing his book and emailing it to the preeminent boutique publisher that is 6.8 Books, the fateful day had arrived.
Be brave, big man , Rowen said to himself. It’s all part of the plan.
Rowen took a deep breath. “There’s been an illness in the family and I’m afraid I have to return to America. I’m very sorry, but I guess this means we can’t be together anymore. You are a great person and I hope you find happiness with someone else …
… and send!”
Rowen let out a sigh of relief as he turned his cell phone off and stuffed it in his pocket. Man, that took a lot of guts, but they don’t call you Kid Courage for nothin’! Great job, Row Dog!!!
With his head held high, he popped open a strong peach chu-high and headed to the park bench where he and Sera had shared that special plum blossom day. It seemed like ages ago.
Fortunately, he arrived first and had some time to polish off a couple more chu-highs.
When Sera finally appeared, they engaged in small talk about the weather, how they’d been since the last time they hung out, and the burgeoning threat of North Korea.
Partly feeling that the moment of destiny had arrived, but more partly because he really had to go pee, Rowen bit his lower lip while turning to look Sera in the eye and plunged into the matter at hand.
“Sera,” he said, trembling like a leaf. “I love you.”
He had done it. He had put himself out there.
Sera’s face lit up with a smile like the sunrise. “I’m so happy,” she said.
“Oh, thank God!” Rowen gasped.