Tokyo Damage Report

Fuckkk Shibuya


Not to toot my own horn but a lot of the postive email I get from this site mentions my supposed bravery at "penetrating the dark underbelly of tokyo night life” and so on. But in fact, that shit does not scare me at all. What totally scares the shit out of me is so-called NORMAL clubs. Joints with big mean bouncers and a bunch of mouth-breathing guys who are all like, “aw yeah, Steve, so you are looking for some poo-say? Me too, man!” and then sort of circling around me drooling and chanting , “One of us! One of us!!”

And yet, there have been literally dozens of nights I laid awake in bed alone, with no plans and bored as hell, cursing myself for being too scared to go to a nightclub. “god damn it man, there are guys and girls dancing and having a ball and you are sitting here watching lo-qual family guy downloads and feeling sorry for yourself, what the fuck is your problem??”

So I finally decided, fuck it, and went to shibuya for an all-nighter. Oh boy, here is what I was missing all those lonely Saturday nights:

  • Shitty music, no dancers, 90% guys, and weak drinks. Is there any possible criteria by which this club could be worse?? Oh yeah, if the bouncers were assholes. But then it occurs to me that if , in fact, the bouncers WERE assholes. They would never have allowed me in the club in the first place, as I clearly did not have the required identification. So I am in the odd position of actually wishing the bouncers were shittier. This is a fucking milestone in club crappiness is it not??
  • the club is straight purgatory ? I keep expecting st. peter to come to the door, all knocking and saying, “OK nakano san, you can come on up. No, no yamashida san, you have to wait another hundred years, your family aint tithed enough.”
  • The sign on the door says NO REEENTRY PERMITTED. I have never seen a no-reentry sign that looked less like a threat and more like a sigh of relief
  • I really wanted to tell them, “yo I am actually undercover with the police. You guys let me in without proper id. I could fine you six thousand dollars for that. . .but if you give me my money back, I will just go back to the station and forget this whole thing happened.” But in the end I chickened out
  • I don’t know which is more pathetic?the shitty music and shitty patrons, or the fact that The guys at the door were honestly shocked and bewildered with no discernable irony that I bailed an hour after entry.
  • The best thing about the club ? the fliers for around 30 other such gigs, gigs which I knew I would not ever have to suffer through
  • Second best thing was, the theme of the event was that ? how wacky is this –DJs were all women. Girl djs, pretty nuts right? So, in honor of “ladies night” the interior decorator guy put up special custom-made 4 meter wide posters of girls in bikinis touching themselves. Because, you know, they are ladies. Like the DJs. Also, in that random-japanese way totally did them in the style of 80’s femnist Barbra Kreuger’s collages. Is it possible to get an irony headache?

also, the crowd, was dancing in such a timid, junior-high way. like "oh no my hips are doing that thing again. they’re moving back and forth — what’s HAPPENING TO ME??? ieeeeeeee make it stop!" it was so weak that i felt bad for the dj. I leave it to the reader to consider exactly how pathetic a show must be for me to feel even remotely sorry for a fucking dj.

So I left, er, I “Bounced to” the more “HIP HOP” disctrict of shibuya. 4 clubs all in a row, all, according to the rules of capitalism, supposedly competing for my cash money. The first club was all frisking people who wanted to get in ? for weapons, or, worse, free alcohol!! There was no way I was going in there, seeing as how I had a purse full of Wino-grade bloodymarys.

The second club straight up just turned me away because ?get this- I was a single guy.

Like as if 1) I am going to sexually harass some fake-ass b-girl, like I will get turned on by fucking Shanique Yamamoto or Lequisha Hibachi or be fooled by their bubble-butt fake underwear. 2) as if I don’t feel shitty enough about being single anyway, and 3) as if there are not enough aspects of life where the difference between men and women becomes a Big Honking Issue even though it is totally fucking irrelivant. Dude, I just want to shake my ass to Xibit and go home. Is that so hard to arrange? Do I need a permit from the Committee on Metropolitan Ass-Shakery? What?!?

But mostly I was mad at my own self for not standing up to the bouncers. I mean, it is not like I would ever come back there again! I should have told them, “damn it kid, here is how it is going down. I will bust the best freestyle you ever heard, and you will let me in the club for fucking free.”

There was a third identical club but by that time I was just so sick of the whole scene. Plus all the asshole rod-stewart-looking motherfuckers and their fake-ass self-hating girlfriends that try to make their hair look like a cheap wig. Fuck shibuya.

I mean, come on, fool. I don’t know if your club has good music or shit music. let alone if there is actual customers inside or just an empty room. And I am willing to take a chance? and after all that you have the nerve to fuck with ME?? Jesus, man. This is the thing about japanese clubs. The kids want like a new trend every fucking week. If you can’t keep up with the trend-of-the-week you are shit out of luck. But if you DO keep up with the trend-of-the-week, the customers will meekly put up with as much shit as you can possibly hurl at them. Fucking asanine.

There is only one good thing to be said. . .. and it is this : I will never waste another Saturday night wishing I was at a fucking club.

Fuck it. Went home and put on britney spears and danced in front of the bathroom mirror.


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