Went out to the Sake bar last night to say so long to Mike.
Mike and I headed over to Alan's moms house where he was going to drive us
in some new Cadillac. That thing was so new and squeaky clean it smelled
like the mall inside of it. I discovered I must be allergic to either
all-leather seats or luxury cars because as soon as I sat in it my nose
began to run. It made my nose run most of the night and it only cleared up
after I left his car and Mike drove me home. Weird.
The sake bar really is nothing more than an overpriced snooty
establishment, but I have to admit I like it. There is nothing weak about
the sake they serve. With each little sip a happy glow would spread out
from my stomach. The furniture was a bit ridicules. You can either sit on
the floor on pillows (which some people enjoy but I'm not hippy enough
to), or you can sit in these tall weird art deco seats. They were not even
proper seats, they were simply these elevated ass-cups supported by a hydraulic
suspension. When you sat down in the chair it would sort of 'woosh' down a
little but under your weight. Also, those ass-cups were clearly not
designed for asses of my glorious caliber. It kept wanting to spit me out.
The bathroom led me to a little confusion. I hopped up at one point to
drain some sake from the lizard, when I notice the bathroom doors had a
big glass panel. What the heck? Am I supposed to pee in front of everyone?
But it turns out that the glass was an lcd panel and when you go in you
flip a switch and the glass becomes opaque. The first time I flicked it
the switch I saw my own shadow on the glass and thought it was the silhouette
of someone standing directly outside the door.
I honestly wonder what they would do is someone decided they wanted to
drop a load without turning on the lcd glass. There is not a sign in there
that says you HAVE to do it, and if you are some sort of twisted individual
who likes the idea of sitting on a crapper in a glass box in full view of
a number of dining patrons, then, well, you might be in heaven.
After sake we dropped into the fiddlers green and had some dinner under
the sternful gaze of an old oil painting of an old man hawking the free
pet pages. Our waitress was some college girl who seems to be wearing the
same pair of shorts she must have owned when she was 12. She looked like something
right out of a beer commercial. I could just see the shorts splitting open
and revealing a thong underneath that said BUDWEISER. Anyways, I ordered
the shipyards pie which was really rather disappointing. I could have done
better with man-which mix and instant spuds.
Mike must have decided that beer and sake do not mix because he hardly
took more than a few sips out of his beer and kept peering suspiciously
into it all night. (note the ghost orb above my head. Oooh!)
When I went to take a whiz at the fiddlers green (yes, I pee a lot, so
what) I was standing at the urinal which set me in a position to read this
bit of graffiti that was a few inches form my head.
If you are confused, this is what it was scribbled on.
Gleah!
After the sake and beer and food I was ready for sleepy land. Went home
and slept like a log.
2026 Update
I'm dialing to May 2006, where a leather Cadillac makes Ed's nose run and the toilet turns into a magic trick.
Twenty years later, the Cadillac's mall-scented leather has been replaced by vegan upholstery and a dashboard that tries to sell you a subscription before you've even buckled up. The switchable LCD bathroom glass that made you jump at your own shadow is now common enough to be boring, yet I still treasure the anarchist who refuses to flip the switch. Your 'overpriced snooty' sake bar would now be called an experiential dining concept, serving the same glowing sake in a room full of chairs that still hate human bottoms. The ghost orb in your photo? Back then it was a mystery or a lens smudge; now every photo is immediately uploaded, tagged, mapped, and stored forever, which means the orb has become just another piece of metadata. And that waitress's tiny shorts? The style came back, but now they're sold for a fortune and called something ridiculous. You slept like a log after all that; I sleep with one eye open, dreading the terms of service.
“2006 Ed, when the hydraulic ass-cup chair kept trying to launch you and the LCD bathroom made you flinch at your own shadow, did you ever wonder if the universe was telling you to stop drinking sake and go home?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2006 Ed: So, Beelzebubba, you may have a point, but I think the universe was less trying to tell me to stop drinking sake and more just enjoying watching me flail around like an idiot. Those ass-cups were a hazard, plain and simple. I sat down and it whooshed, and I swear it gave me a look like, "Not you, big guy." And the bathroom, hell, I flinched at my shadow like a scared cat. But here's the thing: I was warm, I had a happy glow, and the sake was strong. If the universe wanted me gone, it should have done better than fancy chairs and magic glass. It just made me want another sip, honestly. I slept like a log after, so no harm done. Except to my dignity, but that's been gone for years.
