{"id":1214,"date":"2014-08-13T09:29:14","date_gmt":"2014-08-13T16:29:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/slowsuburbandeath.com\/2014\/08\/13\/cant-keep-this-bertha-down\/"},"modified":"2014-08-13T09:29:14","modified_gmt":"2014-08-13T16:29:14","slug":"cant-keep-this-bertha-down","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/?p=1214","title":{"rendered":"Can’t keep this Bertha down"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"shinjuku\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Bertha and I seemed live on trains in Japan, moving in little circles around the Kansai areas of Kyoto, Maibara and Nara, inciting small children to cause trouble while making plenty of our own.\u00a0 We eventually made it back northward to the Kanto regions of Yokohama and Kawasaki, finally ending up in Shinjuku, where our evening began at a little donburi dive near the train station.<\/p>\n

We spent our time exploring\u00a0 Japan without the aid of any guide book, taking recommendations from strangers or simply walking into clubs.\u00a0 Our strategy already landed us in gay discos, outside the doors to a nightclub featuring the Japanese version of Herve Villechaize, a horrible tabasco and deep fried and breaded spare rib restaurant in Tokyo and into a Yokohama karaoke bar where my cousin forced us to sing “Bridge Over Troubled Water”.\u00a0 The little donburi dive seemed worn down with its old 60’s style chipped counter, tattered seats and unadorned interior.\u00a0 We sat next to a tall, blonde guy our age who told us that he was a popular American celebrity\u2019s younger brother on a modeling assignment from Japan, then listened as he recounted his less than exciting tales of meeting other Americans in Japan.\u00a0 He invited us to a late night party where we could meet other beautiful and confused Americans living abroad, but Bertha and I opted to join the teeming thousands of other Japanese who were aimlessly walking through Shinjuku.<\/p>\n

Bertha was 18 back then, a beautiful half Japanese\/half Hawaiian who seemed to attract so much attention for her exotic looks and height that made her stand out as a foreigner.\u00a0 All of this seemed to manifest two-fold once we were in Tokyo, where gentlemen exiting the Shinjuku bars and clubs were renewed with Dutch courage after being plied with alcohol and teriyaki chicken wings.\u00a0 Men stared at Bertha, noticing the long legs beneath the short skirt.\u00a0 They soon began to follow.<\/p>\n

We stopped at a corner waiting for a street light to change.\u00a0 A tall Japanese man wearing a smart business suit stepped next to Bertha, giving her the once over with a raised eyebrow.\u00a0 He wore a brown business suit and carried a briefcase, another Tokyo salaryman. \u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cI want you. I have money to pay,\u201d he declared to Bertha, loud enough for several people us to hear.\u00a0 Bertha looked at me, then turned back to the Japanese man.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am expensive,\u201d Bertha replied.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have money to pay,\u201d he told us, along with the rest of Japan.\u00a0\u00a0 He was far too arrogant for someone with his lack of charm and physical appeal, and I wanted to smash his toes with my heels.<\/p>\n

\u201cI only accept American dollars,\u201d Bertha replied, with an added air of condescension.<\/p>\n

\u201cAmerican dollars? Oh…\u201d<\/p>\n

The man seemed to become lost in his thoughts, perhaps trying to find out how to access American dollars on a late Tokyo evening.\u00a0 We never waited for a response as the light changed.\u00a0 We laughed out loud and behaved as young, siilly women are prone to do, turning around and relishing the frustration on the businessman\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

Bertha and I had been warned of the male cavalier attitudes towards American woman.\u00a0 We had already witnessed this when a group of paunchy middle aged businessmen oogled the sight of our bare legs peeking out from beneath skirts as we climbed the step ladder stairs at the Maibara Castle. While I was never taken for anything other than a fellow Japanese woman, poor Bertha was the unlucky recipient of far too much unwanted solicitation.<\/p>\n

The same sort of things happened in bars and discos, where men stared and sauntered towards her.\u00a0 Bertha played it off very well, looking for humor in everything rather than bear their continued insults.\u00a0 She exchanged their crass comments with comedic sarcasm, something she had been doing so since we had become fast friends when she was still 9.\u00a0\u00a0 She filled our childhoods with so much laughter and troublemaking, especially during our teenaged New Years Eve celebrations where we boozed it up on Mogen David in her living room and acted out episodes of \u201cKung Fu\u201d.<\/p>\n

On one of our final evenings together in Japan, Bertha was approached by an old guy, again at a another plain Shinjuku street corner, as we waited for the light to change.\u00a0 His fingers played around deeply into his pants pocket as he gave Bertha a toothy grin.<\/p>\n

\u201cI like sex!,\u201d he yelled at Bertha..<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you like boogers too?,\u201d asked Bertha.\u00a0 The man, who probably blew all his English on his enlightening opening sentence, looked confused.\u00a0 He could not make out her words, and Bertha laughed as we crossed the street, merging into a thick traffic of people, her head above the rest of the crowd.<\/p>\n

Happy birthday, Bertha!<\/p>\n

(c) 2014 Slow Suburban Death.\u00a0 All rights reserved.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Bertha and I seemed live on trains in Japan, moving in little circles around the Kansai areas of Kyoto, Maibara and Nara, inciting small children<\/p>\n

Continue readingCan’t keep this Bertha down<\/span><\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[8,27,39,43],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1214"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1214"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1214\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1214"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1214"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annapirhana.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1214"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}