We bid farewell to the Russian lady and headed downstairs. The club which she warned us about (but had flyers for) was literally across the street. It was Thursday night and looked like the nuclear holocaust just swept through the area. There were almost no people on the street (11PM, mid July).

“Feria” is one of the more famous night clubs in Tokyo. It has several floors with a huge a roof top terrace. You will find a very large amount of Gaijins and a surprisingly large amount of Japanese girls that speak good English. It had all of that and more, but not that night! We were literally one of the 20 people in the whole club.

“Note to self, do not go clubbing to Roppongi on Thursdays”.

Amazing boredom descended upon us and we decided to continue this “madness” another day. As soon as we stepped outside the club a big African guy ran up to us and yelled “HEY MAN! IT’S BEEN SO LONG!” He had a thick Nigerian accent, a bright yellow shirt and what seemed like a dozen tiny scars across his face. I’ve had a lot of black friends in my life and always seemed to click with them easily (may be because I was born in Africa).

Me: “Man, this place is dead! Where the hell are all the people at?”.

Nigerian guy: “There’s nothing on Thursday man, come with me, I’ll show you were to go on Fridays and Saturdays”

We decided to follow since he said that we should go there some other day. 5 minutes of random chatter and fast walking resulted in us being in some dark alley. As he talked he led us into some odd looking building. Next thing we know, we’re standing in the elevator and the guy’s starting to look nervous. I catch Ivan’s nervous look and realize that it’s time to get the hell out of here. We walk inside a small room with a tiny stage and an even tinier East-Asian stripper. In the corner of the room I notice a scared looking white guy. He was sitting next to another South-East asian stripper. As he noticed us a streak of hope appeared on his sad face. It became obvious that he was the only customer there. Poor fella looked so uncomfortable, but obviously felt it was too rude to get up and leave.

I quickly examined the situation and informed 0ur self appointed guide: “okey… so we’re going to go eat and may be come back later!”…. His friendly smile disappeared and out came the loudest “teeth sucking” sounds I’ve ever heard.

“Naw man, you don’t do me like that man! What is this?!” He demanded an explanation.

I was taken back a bit by this sudden change of mood. All of a sudden an Indian barman appeared out of nowhere and said: “Don’t worry, just pay 40 thousand Yen (around 60$) and we’ll let you try out 26 different drinks”. I suddenly remembered the Russian lady and the scary stories about drugged American tourists and African con artists.

My heart started to pound. I realized that no amount of logic and being nice was going to work. I firmly said “we’re leaving now” and headed for the door. I was expecting to sucker punch our guide and run down the stairs as quickly as possible.

Adrenaline was pumping even once we got to the metro. Still feel bad for the pale guy we had to leave behind… Hope you didn’t wake up shirtless!

http://stuckincustoms.smugmug.com/Portfolio-The-Best/your-favorites/Rain-in-Rappongi/931617109_hw6xb-900x900.jpg

« »