Big fun in Tokyo

Japan offers endless opportunities for novelty entertainment. We were often entertained at things that weren’t specifically designed to be entertaining, like in women’s hosiery stores and while choosing beverages out of vending machines. But a lot of the entertainment is on-purpose entertainment, too. Here are just a couple of the things we tried:

Pachinko. Giant, multi-level pachinko parlors occupy every single corner in some areas of Tokyo and Kyoto. They are louder and busier than a slot-machine-filled Vegas casino, and all the people inside have that same dead-to-the-world glazed-over expression on their faces. The game itself is kind of like pinball, but less fun and requiring less skill. We knew we had to try it, and our Japanese friends Yoko and Ko humored us long enough for us to lose 1,000 yen apiece into the machines (I think we were in and out in less than 5 minutes). Luckily they were there to explain important things to us, like where to stick the money in, what button to push, and who the people spinning around on the screen were (turns out they were stars from a Korean soap opera that’s popular in Japan). Good times.

Maid café. I had been promised bizarre experiences in Tokyo, and bizarre experiences I got. When you arrive at a maid café, the waitresses (dressed in French maid uniforms) come to the door and say ‘welcome home, master!’ (at least that’s what Yuji said they were saying to us). Unfortunately we weren’t allowed to take pictures of the maids, but they were adorable. I should note that we weren’t typical of the clientele there – we would have fit in better if we were 20-something solitary men who spent a whole lot of time on role-playing games (and had spoken Japanese).

Karaoke. We had to do it. Unlike in other parts of the world, karaoke in Tokyo is a private-ish thing. Your group gets its own little sound-proof room equipped with a table and seats, a big-screen karaoke machine, an impossible-to-use remote control for said karaoke machine, a couple wireless microphones, and several song lists the size of the Manhattan telephone book. To order drinks or anything else, you pick up a phone on the wall and tell the person at the other end what you want.

The microphone does this weird echo-y thing to your voice that is supposed to make you sound like a better singer. This may be effective for things like ballads, but doesn’t work so well for, say, rap (trust me, we tried).

Our friends Tomoko and Katsu were obviously seasoned karaoke professionals, actually being able to carry a tune and make it through a whole song without bursting out into hysterical laughter (I failed miserably on both of these points). Scott fared a little better than I did, dazzling the (five-person) crowd with his rousing rendition of “Mr. Roboto.” Domo.