
It’s my last day and I realize that Japan is expensive and it’s gouged me pretty good in the pocketbook. So rather than blow my money on beer, I decide I should splurge and get some sushi. I roll into a place that charges by the plate and has a big conveyor belt with fish floating by. I kid you not, this place is the Denny’s of sushi places in Tokyo. At least I don’t have to talk to anyone to order. I just have to snatch what I want off the conveyor belt and try to order some hot tea. This time there are no old ladies, but an ass load of Japanese guys who have no trouble giving me curious stares. One nice man shows me how to get tea out of a spigot on the table. I think I’ve had the best sushi, and at this place, the worst sushi I’ve ever had in Tokyo. I choked down some rubbery eel and some indistinguishable fish pieces before I headed back out. By now it is late and cold and raining. I start to feel the effect of no sleep for 3 days, so instead of another night of drinking debauchery, I headed back to Ginza to pass out.


Later that day I noticed signs all over the train stations that say “Please be aware of pickpockets.” Pickpockets? In Japan? Could it be when my dumb ass fell asleep on the damn train I was pick-pocketed? Was I a victim of crime in almost crimeless Tokyo? How could my last day in Tokyo become such a fiasco because of my own stupidity? I am the worst traveler ever!
No comments:
Post a Comment