One night in Tokyo

Touring Japan, especially Tokyo for the first time can be an overwhelming experience. In the eleven days I was there I managed to get a little taste of each of the neighborhoods, along with the major tourist spots outside Tokyo proper: Kyoto, Nikko, Kamakura and Aokigahra forest after a failed attempt to ascend Mt. Fuji. The lesson being, fully acclimatize yourself before attempting to scale a 12k+ foot mountain.
The last night before heading back to the states I had had my fill of Harajuku, Shinjuku and Shinuya. My Tokyo bucket list had been nearly complete. I hopped onto their metro and within roughly thirty minutes I found myself wandering the streets of Ginza aimlessly. I’ve found getting lost in a new city is one of the best things you can do.
It was when I was getting ready to head back to the hotel that I found the last item on my bucket list: A takoyaki bar. The entire restaurant couldn’t have been bigger than 12x12 with the awnings up and the bar stools were practically on the sidewalk. There were only two seats available out of the ten and after a quick high five with my traveling companion we sat down and watched the chef.
Beyond ‘Eigo wo hanashimasu ka?’ (Do you speak English) I was at a loss for communicating with the chef. Luckily a couple to the left of me was from the states and spoke fluent Japanese. They became my impromptu translators for the rest of the evening. Off to my right taking up the remaining bar stools were business men with loosened ties and booming voices. While I couldn’t understand what they were saying I couldn’t help but laugh. Their jovial state, brought on by an untold amount of sake carafes was infectious.
The business men took interest in us tourists and asked where we were from. They shouted out LA and New York several times, causing me and my companions to not get in a word for a few minutes. I told them outside of Philly which only brought on blank stares. I quickly corrected myself by saying ‘New Jersey...near New York.’
Recognition.
They bought everyone several rounds of saki, slinging one back each time someone yelled out ‘New Jersey’. This continued until late in the night, each shout more hilarious than the last. Even today I have no idea how I was sober on that plane ride home. It was however, the best damn takoyaki I’ve ever eaten.