No, I didn't take pictures

It's 7:30AM on a Sunday here, sitting in my room with the air conditioner at full blast, having just stepped out of a shower using only the minimal amount of hot water I could physically tolerate. It is summer in Japan (and has been, for a while!). A sticky, sweaty, and smelly season - but one worth experiencing... inside, usually.

My Saturday began at a meager 3PM (Friday was a karaoke outing), where my friend and I met our group at Don Quixote in Akihabara. The reason? Excellent supply of cheap cosplay outfits. This particular store could outfit enough maids for an entire aristocracy. Going there foreshadows a bit, but before our purchases came into play, we were headed to Asakusa for a fireworks display.

It was more like two or three fireworks displays - the river was aglow with vibrant colors exploding on either side of the bridge. The street leading to it was soon rendered useless as thousands of people packed together in hopes of getting a good view. We arrived late (finding just the right collar at the store proved a challenge) and had no hope of wading through all of those festively dressed bodies, so we took to wandering the side streets and working our way toward the park lining the river. Only then were we able to scale some shrubs and get a less-obstructed view of the action.

Summer festivals in Japan bring out the best in everyone. Women and men often dress up in Yukata and Jinbei, respectively. Also adding to the festive atmosphere are the street vendors offering all manner of treats: dumplings, cucumbers, noodles, squid-on-a-stick, and of course, alcohol. The drinking fuels a majority of the people, and it's not uncommon to find evidence of overindulgence splattered here and there while walking around. In spite of that, there's romance in the air and lots of laughter as well. So you've got fireworks, food, and booze shared with thousands of well-dressed but a bit less well-mannered-than-usual Japanese and a good supply of foreigners as well - what fun!

The police are tasked with herding everyone around and making sure Japan's railways continue to operate smoothly (even if everyone is packed together like colorful cotton sardines). Their efforts are respectable, but it can get annoying to have little barricades erected everywhere you wouldn't expect them and plenty of officials feeding a burning desire to shout into megaphones just because they have them. They did a good job, though - no reported stabbings as far as I know.

After the show, we went to eat instead of spending our time waiting in line just to get on a train to our next destination. We wound up at a little covered market with a nice couple who had maybe 150 years between the two of them. Cold soba noodles - that's the way to survive summer. Even with those little fan handouts one can pick up outside any station, you need to cool your body from the inside as well. Ok - beer and noodles. In a pinch, non-alcoholic beverages can do - those ubiquitous vending machines come in handy - but sobriety isn't recommended... it's just not the custom. When in Rome, and all that.

After eating, the crowds had died down a bit, and we headed for a club called "Marz" in Shinjuku. It's normally a goth club, but tonight's theme was "fetish party" and the flier was a laundry-list of stuff that could make anyone grin. The guys who searched through Don Quixote earlier came out each with all-black full body costumes. They were made of a thin layer of fabric, but covered every inch of their bodies - I guess they could see out from them alright, though there was no visible evidence of their eyes. Those who met up with us at fireworks hadn't known about the club beforehand, but also wanted to go. While dressing up wasn't mandatory (it got you 1,000 off the entry fee), they were good sports and didn't want to "stand out" as being the few without costumes. They visited the one in Shinjuku and came out with a maid outfit, schoolgirl uniform, and a sexy black onepiece - two girls, one guy. Myself, I was looking forward at the chance to reuse my old Halloween costume: Pikachu. Not to suggest that my fetish involves fictional electric rodents or any form of anthropomorphism; I bought a collar beforehand so I could go from cute children's character to being someone's "pet." At one point that evening, I was dragged into an actual pet store (why was it open so late?) and offered at discount prices. I doubt the employees will forget that either.

Our meandering around Shinjuku on the way to convenience stores (most vending machines don't sell alcohol - shock!), costume stores, and the club was easily the most fun I've had in Japan for a long time. Shinjuku didn't have a fireworks festival, but as far as alcohol goes, every weekend is a party there, and people are staggering around or being belligerent at any hour. We weren't surprised when we drew the attention of nearly every person we passed by. We put on a good show, too. The blacksuits would slink around and generally try to creep out anyone nearby - an objective they accomplished without much difficulty for the majority of women. For every "scary" we got a "cute", though - it was a personal parade of general merrymaking as we put smiles on faces by taking the art of challenging social norms to the street, literally.

The club was good, but surprisingly lacking in attendance. The first time I visited, it was difficult to move from one floor to the next. Here, our group was half of a floor. All the more for dancing! The other guests included vampires, punks and the standard goths. Periodically, one of the stage girls would bring out a "victim" who would be bound with rope and suspended from a harness hanging above the stage. She was pretty good at what she did, and she made it fun for her captives by kissing or teasing them. One guy, she'd climbed up on after he was lifted into the air with his legs slightly up and head slightly down; she went to pull his hair back to show his face to everyone, but his hair-piece came off! A casualty of cosplay, I guess.

There was one of these intermissions that outshined the others, and that was a "hooking". To sum it up, this guy sits on a stool while she pushes thick metal hooks into his back - two rows of four. I was astonished at how easily they slid in and out of the skin and how there was no blood. They then thread the ropes from that harness through the first row of hooks in his upper back and slowly raise him into the air - suspended entirely now from four fat columns of skin. The girl then threads through the bottom four and hangs from the guy as he's lifted even higher. In the end, this spectacle is stretching the guy's skin hard, and slowly, little streaks of blood begin to run from those top hooks that are now supporting the weight of two people. The question running through my mind the entire time is "how much weight before it rips and we have to take a mop brake?" I knew this place was hardcore... no wonder the door guy was giving me a rough time about the discount for my cute costume.

We were at the club until it became light out. We grabbed some Matsuya for breakfast and went our separate ways home. For as much as I can rag on Japan (admittedly, it is easy) for all its annoyances, it really is an incredible place - you couldn't get away with this sort of random stuff anywhere else. What fun!