a history of me

Yesterday I was complaining about how dull it was to be taking care of myself instead of hanging out with people drinking and partying. So what did I do last night? Hung out with people, drank and partied.

The story begins, like most of my recent adventures, with an advertisement on Craigslist. I happened to search for "Japanese" and I came across this curious posting (link may be deleted soon) for "Japanese language practice partners." The event was a kind of informal gathering of Japanese and English speaking people at a pleasant Turkish restaurant named Maia in Alphabet City near Tompkins Square Park.

I was, of course, early and I was the first guest to arrive. I was greeted by the hostess, a very attractive young Japanese woman named Yuki. She suggested I wait at the bar for more guests to arrive. I had a glass of some kind of Red wine, remembering the suggestion of my nutritionist regarding alcohol. It wasn't long before people started showing up. I had a seat at a long table (in truth, an arranged line up smaller tables) and did my best to chat these nice folks up. The conversation was a little jerky, with lots of Japanese and English crashing together but I think most sentiments were expressed one way or another. Everyone was interested in my upcoming trip as well as my past visit.

The catch of the evening was the restaurant setting. There were frequent interruptions as the restaurant plays host to a kind of "art show," as the original ad put it. Short films were shown, poetry was forced upon us and improvised dances were flailed about. Each one of these "performances" ground all conversation to a halt; indeed, the MC would chide people who he could see speaking while he was speaking. This made it a lot harder to get to know one another.

The menu was quite varied and prompted a lot of discussion. In particular, I was called upon to explain what a hookah was. Some of them tried it, some of them just looked and laughed. Many of these people were new to New York, some of them having been in town for a month or less. One girl, Sayo, was visiting from Paris where she studies design; she occasionally used French pleasantries like oui or merci. I can't imagine how she juggles learning two foreign languages at once.

After several hours of talking, not talking, and eating some light appetizers (we were never offered any entrees, just lots of small plates) the restaurant cleared out. A small group of us opted to keep hanging out at a nearby yakitori place called やきとり大将, Yakitori Taisho. Apparently it's a pair of restaurants on St. Mark's Place, one of which I ate in a few weeks ago. Late at night they close one and just pack everyone into the other. They're open until 3:30 and we were there nearly until closing time. We drank a lot (I had mostly sake with a little beer at the end) and we ate a lot. We had a variety of yakitori (of course), a bowl of takowasa (octopus with wasabi, lots of edamame, some kind of grilled tofu and just a little bit of mentai potato. I know, I know, but that's the first potato product I've eaten in weeks. They're basically steak fries but the mentai is a "spicy cod roe sauce" that is easily the most delicious thing I've ever dipped a potato into.

At the end of the evening we all exchanged e-mail addresses or phone numbers. I don't know if I'll really see any of them again but it would be pretty cool if that were to happen. It's not like I'm busy or anything but it goes back to something my friend Scott told me; the notion that Japanese people tend to behave a certain way because they're expected to but inside they don't really feel that way. So maybe all the talk of getting together again this summer was just talk. Either way, last night was fun and I did it without embarrassing or abusing myself terribly.