Trains, Trannies, and Scary Nigerians: With love, Tokyo Part 1*

> CLICK HERE FOR PART 2

                                        Photo: "Shibuyu Crossing Madness" Credit : Rudy Randa

Shit.

Really?

 They cancelled my flight out of Hong Kong to Tokyo.

 I didn’t even venture out on my last night in HK after dinner because I didn’t want to miss my 10 am flight to Tokyo.

I wanted to soak in a full Saturday and really be fresh for the experience. Great.

We can put you on a flight at 15:00. Gets you in at 21:00. Ugh. There goes my night.

Whatever. When you travel you have to be prepared to deal with things you can't control, and you can either let it sabotage your mood and your day, or just let it go. THINK POSITIVELY.

It WAS kind of disheartening though, because I knew that after I landed, I still had about another hour or so of travel from Narita airport to where I was staying in Rappongi Hills in Tokyo.

I chill in HK airport and eat a PHENOMENAL salumi plate. Some dutch girl a few tables over stares at me off and on for about 30 minutes. The entire time while sniffing a very long cold French fry. Pretty bizarre, but nothing in comparison to what was on the horizon.

Finally I get to Tokyo and as I am walking up to the customs line A crush of Phillipinos swarmed.

Ugh.

They didn’t speak any English and they didn’t speak any Japanese. They had many small children, who seemed hell bent on mayhem.  The line was moving at a snail's pace due to this, and ended up taking an hour for what should have been a 15 minute wait. Meh.

 NOW I missed the last Skyliner train into Tokyo. I was to transfer at Shinjuku and then cab to my hotel. About a 45 min experience and the fastest way into town. I didn’t make any alternate plans so I had to figure it out, and the Japanese train system is incredibly complex, and does NOT have everything in English.

Oh- did I mention I have almost 200lbs of luggage in four pieces I am Sherpa-ing around ? I brought about 75 lbs of books with me, which were in my large backpack. I’m getting tired.

OK, so the next fastest way to get to Rappongi is to take the Narita Express to Ueno (about 50 minutes) and then transfer to the local subway, onto the Hibiya (grey ) Line. Then I was 10+ stops away from Rappongi.

This is going to take forever.

How much is a cab to the city? Around $250 ? Ugh. Im not spending that on a cab.

At least I will get to ride the bullet train. I LOVE trains. Love love love love being on them, and this would be my first Japanese bullet train experience, and it didn't disappoint, as I could barely discern the rapidly passing by scenery.

I finally get to Rappongi station, it has taken about an hour and a half and I am tired, hungry and cranky. I see a McDonald's and am tempted.
No.
DON'T EAT THE POISON. You will be elbow deep in some fantastic sushi soon.

I hail a cab and tell him the name of my hotel.

He doesn’t understand.

I show him the address.

He doesn’t understand.

Now I am getting REALLY cranky. I look for a direct number to the hotel but I cannot find it, as I booked it through Agoda, which is like an Asian Hotels.com and is fantastic for reviews, pictures, and just getting the full scope of each prospective hotel.

I find what I think is the number, but the name of my hotel, Hotel S, is causing problems on google, because google in all its brilliance, even when I “ “ the search words, is telling me I am searching for hotelS (plural).  I was going to splurge and treat myself and stay at the RITZ while I was here, but I have found in my travels, both domestic and abroad, that I just prefer staying in smaller, upper end boutique hotels than large business ones. I like that they usually have more local flavor and that there is always an array of personalities who stay there.

The cab driver is now repeating what he sees on my email in really broken English. Including irrevelent information such as the dates of my stay.

I should have booked the damn Ritz.

 My phone has 8% battery.

I find what I think is the number. I call and hand the phone to the cab driver.

Why is it that what should be short direct conversations seem to drone on forever in Japanese and Chinese? He smiles and hands my phone back. ON OUR WAY. It is now about 23:15.

We take a left off the main road and are on a dark side street. The cab driver is fervently surveying the addresses as the car slows to a crawl. These two women run out and flag down the cab. They appear to be dressed in hotel uniforms. Finally. They must have been watching for us after he had spoken to them. AMAZING.

They try and pick up one of my suitcases. These little Japanese women cant even move it. I laugh and tell them I got it.

We get in and the lobby looks suspiciously small and doesn’t seem very hotel-like.

What the hell is going on here?

 One of the workers says “your guests are awaiting you” and points to a curtain that is covering a passageway.

Huh? What is she talking about?

Just then a very statuesque attractive platinum blonde with enormous fake breasts comes through the curtain. She looks pretty damn hot.

I stare for a moment.

Oh shit.

Just when I realized What I was staring at :

“This isn’t him.”

She says in the deepest manliest voice in all of Japan.

She shuffles me behind the curtain and I realize I am at a restaurant. A fine Japanese dining establishment. Not a hotel. And it’s a private party. I survey the room:

There was the transvestite and a bunch of men.

 I am tired. I just want to shower and eat .

“Sit with us, join the parteeee” says one Japanese man in American Homosexual English.

They begin to fawn all over me. I don’t know what to do. I am tired and hungry and want a shower. I guess I can eat here.

I sit down, and have some sake.

Another westerner says with a very dramatic lisp “Oooooooo, we weren’t expecting thissssssss”.

The trannie is next to me and touches my leg.

Jesus this is getting creepy. Now you all know I love my gay people. I have gay friends. I don’t look at them any differently than I do EVERYONE. But this just felt, CREEPY. Like I was some sacrificial lamb. Whatever these dudes had planned after this dinner party, Im sure it involved the blood of goats, handcuffs, weird satanic chants and virgin tears…..lots of virgin tears.

NOT BECAUSE THEY WERE GAY. BECAUSE THEY WERE CREEPY. AND NO, THEY WEREN'T CREEPY BECAUSE THEY WERE GAY, THEY WERE CREEPY BECAUSE THEY WERE CREEPY. *just so we all understand each other here.

 Get me the hell out of here.

They are now all making lewd comments and keep telling me I need to come to this party after dinner, that I would be “a hit”.

I start to excuse myself, politely,  “I am tired, I really need to get to my hotel”.

I get up and the trannie blocks the door with the curtain.

                                                 What in the fuck?

She is bigger than me. I have never raised a hand in violence toward a woman in my life and my brain immediately starts to analyze:

Can I shove this big broad?

Is that oK? Will I be a woman beater? Is this a crime against gays?  

Then I think, maybe I should shove her in her chest and find out if she went saline or silicone........

As I am thinking this,  the room has now turned against me, and all the fawning has morphed to hisses and derision.

Even if I push the trannie, I literally have two huge roll suitcases, a briefcase and an enormous backpack. I cannot exactly dash out of this place.  Especially because the halls are so narrow- it took some time getting the bags in- and therefore will take some time in getting them out.

The big Trannie still blocks the door.

Just then the curtain behind her swooshes open.

It is the Westerner that they expected. The man who the Japanese workers had thought was me.

He is cute. Like feminine gay cute. MUCH cuter than I, thank god. He is tall and model like and Incredibly skinny.

They all turn their attention to him.

I take this moment and RUN with my bags.

There was a cab waiting for me as soon as I stepped out. I told THIS guy the name of my hotel, and of course, he knew it.

It was less than 3 blocks away, and literally one block from where the first cab driver picked me up.

This did not start out well, I think I may just check in and crash........


.................obviously I didn't.

CLICK HERE FOR PART TWO AND THE REST OF THE STORY!!!


* No Transvestites, Nigerians, or bibulous western writers were hurt during the filming of this episode and I trust and know that most Transvestites, Nigerians and bibulous western writers are upstanding good people.