86 posts tagged “hostess”

Kazuhide is the proudly ignorant Japanese salaryman who extols advise/publicly shames ex-pats in his monthly column in Japanzine.

The Hostess is a former bar flower who published a memoir of her decadent days and nights as a paid alcoholic.

Here is their face off!

Just got an email from my old boss at the ghetto club.

He said "Tokyo's still rainy and humid and won't clear up. Just imagining LA, I feel like going there right now. Relax while you're there, but there are lots of fat people in America so be careful not to gain too much weight. A little bit is okay, but too much and you'll be in trouble when you get back to Japan."

That's a literal translation of what he said.

Jesus, talk about a crazy house. I just got off of skyping with Dancer Girl. In CASE anybody still cares about those crazy ladies I used to work with, here's an update.

Mama complained about how rude I used to be to her best customer Kawasaki. He's a big shot at Toshiba, and seriously, Kawasaki is his real name. I just googled him and his stupid disgusting face showed up and I almost dry heaved. He spits when he talks, he is obnoxious and drunk and stupid, and because he's such a big shot, EVERYONE around him bows down to him and lets him say rude, racist, obnoxious, ignorant things. He says these things sometimes for hours and hours and hours into the night, holding his underlings hostage in our ghetto club when they'd much rather go home and sleep.

Plus he gives mama sleeping pills.

Anyway, I hated his ass and I never hid it. You can't expect other girls to treat your own customers nicely, that's one of the reasons why you have to be friendly with your co-workers (even if you're the mama).

Then there's Mia. Who is still drinking too much and passing out on top of customers. She's going to quit though, and spend the summer working in some vacation resort far away so she can lead a quiet life and just work and sleep and save her money and her soul. I think Mia forgets that she's 37 years old. Just because she doesn't look or act it doesn't change the fact that she's GETTING OLD! She says after saving all that resort money, she's going to New York. Don't ask me why. I think she wants to DJ there.

Chiba Girl is still wanting to throw everything away to move to Texas. I just don't care anymore. I'm sick of telling her the same thing.

There's a new girl. Very young, has a young kid, she's from America. She's living with a friend while she teaches English and hostesses. Her friend watches her kid while she's at work. Don't ask me why she came to Tokyo where things are expensive, space is cramped, and life can be hard for foreigners and single moms. I feel like there are some big pieces missing in her reasoning.

I told Dancer to get a new job, at least work somewhere else. She said she'll just stay there until September, which is when she's coming to visit me. I feel like she should quit now. She should have quit yesterday. She can sing, she can dance, she can get paid more in a nicer place. Ugh, that club was so crap.

Thank goodness I'm FREE of that PLACE.

"I think being a hostess kind of messes us up," said Dancer. "What!? No!" I said. "Yeah," she answered. "We stay up when people are supposed to sleep, our lives are all wrong."

When we hung up, Dancer told me she was going to sleep. "What time is it?" I asked her. "Um, 12 in the afternoon."

Home. Kind of busy today. Got some new contacts that I'll never use. A new girl came in to interview (Japanese, very hostess-like) and ended up working for the night. She's coming from a high-class place with a lot of pressure, and she made me realize yet again how ghetto this place is. We found out that we were the same age. I thought she was much younger, and vice versa. Maybe conventional wisdom isn't true -- hostessing keeps you young!!!????

But it all doesn't matter because I am DONE!

I gave mama a hug and she said "come back, okay?" I said okay, and she said "thank you, that's all I wanted to hear."

I got an email on my phone from the boss saying "take care, rest up, and come back to us when you're back in Japan. That is if we're still open (laugh)."

I won't be going back. I don't think.

How come I always get my period right before I travel? Last day of work, first day of my period.

Mia spilled wine all over herself last night. She always drinks too much and does stuff like that. She went to the back and got changed behind the curtain (where she usually smokes). It was kind of sexy when she drunkenly left her dress outside and had to reach out for it with her bare arm. Or maybe it was just ditzy and stupid, I don't know.

Chiba Girl was in a super happy mood too. For the past few weeks she's been feeling tired and she wouldn't stop complaining about her small room, the noisy neighborhood, the drunken losers that are everywhere, and how hard she has to work. The issues she's been having with drinking, throwing up, insomnia and sleeping pills were getting the better of her. But last night she actually said "I love Roppongi!"

She went back to Chiba and her husband last week, and I think she remembered how boring that place is, and how she has so much more fun here. So that was good.

"Come back here in four months, okay!? I'm going to still be here!" she exclaimed, even though last week she said she was quitting after I left. "You'll still be here, right Mia?" she asked. To which Mia replied "I hope not." It seems like those two have patched up their extended cold war fight.

I'm feeling a little sad that it's my last day. I'm not as extreme as Chiba Girl, but I do have my ups and downs with the job. There have definitely been a few ups. I just might miss it a little.

I'm off to my last day as a Roppongi hostess.

行ってきます！

Sat with an American customer today. He was nice. Not sure if it's just the general setting or what, but American customers always think I'm lying when I say I'm American. They start saying my accent is funny or this that and the other. Not that I really care.

This was his first time in Japan. He seemed a little unsure about what to make of everything at first, but then he got really happy and comfortable and relaxed and seemed to really like me. After an hour he was telling me about his hotel room and how he was alone in it. He had a good time and when it was time to leave, he had to be dragged out by his Japanese business associates (who were paying).

Most foreigners laugh at hostess clubs. Like "what kind of loser has to PAY to talk to GIRLS?" or "what's the point if you don't get SEX?" This is usually followed by some comment about how sexist Japanese society is, and how it's so sad that Japanese men can't communicate with their wives and have to pay for female companionship.

But it usually doesn't take foreign men long to get it (whatever "it" is) once they actually get taken to a hostess club. A lot of foreign business associates who have to take regular trips to Tokyo end up getting hooked on a hostess or two, just like any Japanese salaryman.

Tomorrow is my last day!!!!!!!!

I finally broke down and contacted a whole bunch of customers. Mama guilted me into it. "You haven't written down any customers names," she said, waving the notebook around (we have to write down all the customers we contact in this big notebook). I didn't contact Totoro because I feel bad for ignoring his calls.

I got two rejection texts already. Rejection means "I'm not wasting my time or money on you." I'm just sick of this constant rejection of ME. When I'm on a working roll it doesn't bother me, rejection is part of the job. But today I just felt like a weight was on my heart.

Something worse might happen though. Some of the other customers who haven't just ignored or rejected me MIGHT ACTUALLY COME.

Almost time to say goodbye to my little treehouse/closet (photo courtesy of Shia and his awesome wide lens camera):

Closet

I'm gonna get fat this last week in Tokyo because all my friends want to take me out for a goodbye meal.

My ex-boyfriend (would-be-baby-daddy) called and wanted to meet up. Our schedules weren't really compatible (he paints buildings so he finishes around 8pm and only has Sundays off). I think it's good that he only has one day off a week, and that his job is physical so that he's exhausted. It keeps him out of trouble. He said he might take a sick day on Thursday.

I think I'll call and email my customers on Thursday and tell them Friday's my last day. I might as well.

I was telling Best Friend about how mama told me to turn the sound off when I was watching Coyote Ugly on the big TV screen, and I told her too bad because I wanted to watch it. Best Friend informed me that "you know you can't talk to people like that in the real world." Then she said that if she'd still work in a club if she could. Which kind of surprised me, but actually she's an all-or-nothing type of girl so she absolutely couldn't. She felt like a failure if she didn't have more paid dates than all the other girls. I, on the other hand, couldn't give two shits if I didn't have any paid dates. Then again, I'm a professional half-asser.

What will I do when i come back to Japan? I could be a bilingual office worker or do technical writing or translation again. "You could just write a book," said Best Friend, as if it was that easy. Just because she did it doesn't mean anybody can.

Anyway, I need to focus on what I'm going to be doing in LA. I do have my work cut out for me. Maybe I'll archive this blog and start a new one.

I sat with a pretty cool customer the other day. He's been in Shanghai for five years, and he was just back in Tokyo for a few days. He told me to look him up next time I'm in Shanghai, and I really might. I don't know why we get some decent customers. It's one of the world's mysteries.

For some reason, we started talking about weird foods.

Japanese people eat some pretty freaky things. Like raw horse! Thoroughbred racehorses that have career-threatening injuries get turned into high class horse sushi. Seeing it on the menu or eating it is one thing, actually visualizing the majestic thoroughbred being taken away by a Japanese crew is another. Which is just another weird hypocritical thing that we do. We'll eat it, but we get disgusted by the actual mechanics of how it got on our plates.

Here is one thing that the customer told me about, and if you have a weak stomach you might not want to keep reading.

This customer was taken to a big banquet by his Chinese business associates somewhere outside of Shanghai. The appetizers were delicious and he was really enjoying himself. Since he was the guest and most people couldn't speak Japanese, everyone spoke English. Then, a dish was brought out and rolled into the center of the table. Everyone was excited, what was this next delicacy? A waiter lifted the silver lid, and there was a half dead monkey with the top of his skull chopped off. The moment this dish was revealed, one of the more distinguished Chinese guests who had been speaking perfect English eloquently suddenly exclaimed "Aiyaaaaa!!!" and then proceeded to rattle off in Chinese how happy he was. Apparently this was a very rare and very special treat.

The monkey's body was under the table, and half his head was poking out, as if he was peeking through the table. When people started pulling pieces of his brain out, you could hear him kicking. Apparently the brains were quite tough, not soft and squishy like you would expect.

This customer was surprised with himself because he couldn't bring himself to eat it. He didn't want to act holier than thou or anything, but he had hit a cultural wall.

Last night I had an awful splitting headache and I was feeling really tired. So I called my boss and asked him if there was any Bufferin. He said no, so I asked him if he could bring me some. He showed up an hour or two later and handed me a tiny dirty bottle of expired Tylenol that he brought from some dirty corner of his house. I opened it and there were two dusty capsules inside.

How hard would it have been for him to get me some Bufferin? Some unexpired, over-the-counter headache medicine that costs less than 1,000yen. I felt like "so this is what I'm worth to you."

I realized that this is what our customers probably feel like. That's why our customers are either pieces of crap, or people with an overdeveloped capacity for sympathy.

Yasuko-san's bar was different. She wanted people to feel comfortable, welcome, and happy. She didn't waste her life. She was always studying and traveling. She enjoyed her life and wanted everyone in her life to enjoy their lives too.

I wish I went to see her again before she died. I always thought about going to see her but then I'd put it off because I was busy or tired. I almost had a heart attack last night when I found out she was gone.