Wasted

One of those weekends I’m afraid. You know the kind that can be summed up with one word: over-indulgence.

The shopping, eating, drinking and sleeping marathon began with a Saturday brunch at Cabana, where P and I caught up with B and visitor, J. [Tokyoites take note - eggs benedict here is just as good as, if not superior to, Good Honest Grub, and you don’t have to wait 40 mins for a table]. P and I were finding it increasingly difficult not to get maudlin about B’s increasingly imminent departure, and so ended up taking endless photos of him to somehow compensate. He loves it really though.

After stuffing our faces and catching up on the lives of the rich and famous, the girls went shopping, and fortunately (for me) P decided to give us the slip and go to the gym, leaving me in a shopping situation with J, someone who is unaware of my addiction and my sartorial stockpile, and therefore, someone who unlike all my other friends, wouldn't discourage me from buying. In fact, she actively encouraged. Hence, this and this only with short sleeves.

After returning home to freshen up, we all reconvened in Roppongi to gatecrash someone's birthday party, which was already being hijacked by T as her bye-bye party (yes another one bites the dust). The party was in SuperDeluxe, a space I haven't frequented in months partly because I have had no reason to, and mainly because I haven't looked for a reason to either; it being a location which seemed to hold too many memories, good and bad, that I didn't want to... well... remember. It was also the scene of far too many well-intentioned but misdirected "you-know-you-are-better-off-without-hims", and thus, had become a venue of dread somewhat. Anyway, there I was, or rather, there we were, and after a few drinks it didn't seem so bad. The bloke (still don't know his name) had really gone to town for his b-day, putting on a free bar and one of those wackily dressed, entertaining but somewhat ubiquitous J girl guitar bands, "X-Girl".

And well, the evening degenerated from there on in really. Fueled up on free booze, we hit the Pong proper around midnight and ended up dancing the length and breadth of it, before arriving at Muse, a veritable multiplex of entertainment concepts - is it a bar, is it a pool hall, is it a disco, is it a cattle market? I found this sign in the ladies... not only amazed that I was compus mentus enough to take a photie but more amazed that given the criteria for banning people, that there was anybody still in the joint.

The evening was topped off or the morning was broken, whichever way you want to look at it, with a bowl of tasty ramen. Sunday... a write off.

Comments

[PrincessHalfu]

That chin fuzz has gotta go!