Mirrored with permission from Outpost Nine and Azrael

Az Fails at Dating

I went through a bad breakup a few months ago. Breaking up is hard to do, my ex is a moron, I deserve better, yada yada yada, the Maroon 5 "Songs About Jane" CD and all the usual breakup tripe later, it was time to get back on the horse and start dating again.

Now, a lot of the emails I get include something like "Dude! You're a large black man in Japan who speaks Japanese? Holy cow! You must have to fight the ladies off with a stick!" Yeah, you'd certainly think so, wouldn't you? Gaijin Power or whatever. Yet, that is not the case. I will now proceed to give you proof as to how extensively God hates me specifically. That's the only explanation I can come up with.

I was at a cherry blossom viewing party with some JET friends. There were these two Japanese girls also there, and one of them kept staring at me. I didn't think much of it at first, but later I talked to her a bit, which was pleaseant. I got her email later, and upon emailing her she told me some story about how she didn't know how to burn CD's on her computer, could I possibly come over and help her? ...Score! Ah, the old Damsel in Distress trick. Sure, I'll go and help her "burn some CD's." Heh heh heh.

It's safe to say, at this point, I was expecting good things. Ah, if only I knew.

Anyway, I went out to meet the girl for dinner. This went good for the most part...except for her being crazy. It's like she's on a permanent bad acid trip or something. Oh well, I'm from San Francisco, I have experience dealing with hippies.

After dinner, we were talking about what to do next. Initially, the other girl who was at the party (I'll call her Satchmo, her actual name is kinda close to that so it reminds me of that Jazz player Louis Armstrong) was supposed to come too, but she couldn't come join us because she had a stomach ache...but she wanted us to come to her house. I was like fuck that, if she can't come then I'm not gonna go see her, but my coke-addicted date was adamant, so off we went to see Satchmo.

Satchmo lives in this VERY TINY little space above a coffee shop. I can't stress how small this place was. And it wasn't just her. NO! It was her whole family too...spin around in your computer chairs right now, imagine dividing your room into three bedrooms, a kitchen, and a tiny bathroom, and you have an idea of the space here.

COKE ADDICT and I enter Satchmo's tiny little room, and out comes her dog...who is clearly high on crack and bouncing off the walls. Oh, and the pooch has a mohawk. I swear to GOD, the dog had a mohawk. Anyway, COKE ADDICT sits down and almost immediately the dog pisses on her. "Aw, not again! Man, everytime!" COKE ADDICT exclaims. She gets a rag from Satchmo, but aside from rubbing it no other cleaning attempts are made. I start to wonder what the dog knows that I don't.

Satchmo asks us if we want coffee. I don't, but she goes to get it anyway. Then Satchmo's mom walks by...who looks like a JAPANESE GYPSY CRACK WHORE. I shit you not, that's exactly what it was. "You guys want bananas?" She asks. I had no idea how to respond to that, the whole JAPANESE GYPSY CRACK WHORE thing was weirding me out. She disappears and reappears a second later with a buschel of bananas she drops on the table. Satchmo comes back with the coffee, and ice cream. GYPSY CRACK WHORE brings a plate of strawberries. ...OK.

So now COKE ADDICT and Satchmo are chatting, and I'm kind of sitting there wondering how I get myself in these weird ass situations. I'm also kind of freaked that GYPSY CRACK WHORE isn't freaked...I mean her daughter's friend has just brought a large, unknown black man into their tiny little living quarters, and apparently this is perfectly acceptable. It was almost like this kind of thing happens on a daily basis.

Meanwhile, Satchmo's RASTAFARIAN BROTHER comes back from wherever, and is also not freaked about large black man. He goes to his room, which is like 20 inches away, and occasionally jumps into the converation (although we can't see him). At one point he randomly calls out to me "Hey, can you teach me to dance sometime?"

Meanwhile still, CRACK PUPPY is still tearing up all over the place. He's terribly curious about me...he'll run right up to me and stare me in the eyes, but the second I move to pet him he runs away. One of the times he runs up, I decide to just sit still and see what happens. CRACK PUPPY comes right up to me, stands on my lap, puts his paws on my chest, and stares me right in the eyes. ...And then CRACK PUPPY kissed me. I was just fucking shocked, I had no idea what to do about that. I moved, and CRACK PUPPY scampered away again.

GYPSY CRACK WHORE comes back again and starts chatting me up, with the usual "Oh, your Japanese is so good!" Whatever, please don't sell me to the Yakuza circus. She and the other two start making plans to go see a baseball game, and hey! why don't I come along too. I suddenly realize this tiny little closet-house has no windows, no way to escape.

Back to COKE ADDICT and Satchmo, they're occasionally talking and watching TV. They stop on some documentary about children being killed in the war in Iraq. ...Great, that'll certainly pick the evening right up! At one point, a father is holding his badly wounded daughter in his arms, screaming for help. Everyone stands around, powerless to do anything...and the daughter dies right there in daddy's arms, on camera. COKE ADDICT and Satchmo watch this, go "Awwwwww"....then turn around and stare right at me.

......WTF I DIDN'T DO IT! I don't have GW on speed-dial! "Hey Dubya, why don't you start a war with Iraq for no apparent reason? And hey, try to kill as many babies as you possibly can, ok? kthxbye!"

So now they go off on how pointless the war is and just how much George Bush sucks (it kind of sucks to be an American overseas right now). Granted, I'm no Bush-lover or Iraq war supporter, but I kind of wanted to say "Hey, America's not all bad!" But I figured Dead Toddler was the ultimate comeback, and I'd best just shut it.

Fortunately, FINALLY, the time came where I'd have to leave to catch the last train. COKE ADDICT has to drive me to the station, so she goes too. In the car, COKE ADDICT continues to rant on about Bush. After about 5 minutes, I've had my fill, and change the subject...but it doesn't last for long, as COKE ADDICT says "I'm sorry, I want to go back to President Bush..." and continues to rant on. I kind of shut off my brain until I got to the station and on my way to the sancity of home.

So there you have it. I found myself stuck in the lair of Satchmo, dealing with COKE ADDICT, GYPSY CRACK WHORE, and America-bashing, and the only action I got out of it was a kiss from CRACK DOGGY. I sent COKE ADDICT an obligatory email afterwards, and got a basic reply, but I haven't heard from her since, and that's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, I like it.

Not only do I think God hates me specifically, but also he must get pretty shitty TV reception up there, and has decided to use me for entertainment.

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