Tapas Bar

Okay, there was one other thing that did not suck about Tokyo. But it not-sucked because we made it great by ourselves. Last night we were hungry. It was about dinner time. And we are often hungry at dinner time. That is why we go for dinner.

There are buildings here that are restaurant buildings. You hop on an elevator, select the floor, and the elevator takes you right into the lobby of the restaurant. A lot of the buildings are narrow, so a single restaurant occupies an entire floor. We saw a great-looking Italian restaurant that served pizza. Japan has freakish pizzas choices and I really wanted to try a weird pizza before we went home.

We hopped on the elevator, hit the button, and were delivered unto the lobby. A lobby that was packed with Japanese people. And the smell! It is the smell that I will forever associate with the concrete playground whale at White Rock beach; a smell that I would later learn in life meant drunk people had been here, accidents had happened.

It was particularly unappetizing.

We hopped back in the elevator to choose another restaurant. We selected a floor at random. And random was to be the theme of the night, as it turned out. Though little did we know it at that time. And lo, we were delivered unto the Tapas bar.

The bar did not smell like stale piss and beer. Which was a good start. And even better, the waiter told us we would only wait twenty minutes at most. That was fine by us.

As we gazed around the restaurant, it appeared we had entered an ultra-chic tapas bar and cocktail lounge. The walls were dark granite, the floors a finely polished hardwood. Shoes were stacked neatly in the foyer and slippers place conveniently for patrons to use. It was noｔ the sort of place I usually found myself. I got a little nervous. But I was not about to hop back in the elevator and lose my spot in line for dinner. Aside from which, they had pizzas.

When we were seated, my suspicions were confirmed. The menu was full of fancy appetizers and dishes I could only wonder at. The waitress asked us for our drink orders.

In other restaurants, ordering drinks has been easy. For breakfast or lunch, I am content with orange juice (orenji juusu) or iced tea (tsumetai ocha). At dinner, most restaurants stock only one particular kind of beer or sake. If there are several available, a sly osusume sake wa nan desu ka (what sake do you recommend) usually gets me off the hook without appearing an illiterate fool.

Suffice to say, I was not prepared to select from ten pages of drinks.

Jenn was wide-eyed and giving me her I trust you to get us out of this or else look. Fantastic. As I cursed the Pimsleur lessons for not covering the finer points of ordering cocktails, my mind raced for a drink that might coexist in America and Japan. I suddenly hit upon a stroke of genius.

`Osusume cocktail wa nan desu ka?` I ventured plaintively to the waitress. I hoped she would recognize the word. After all, this was a very trendy restaurant. And in Japan, trendy means borrowing English words when a Japanese word would suffice. Hai! was the delighted response. But success was short-lived.

She excitedly pulled out the Wacom touch tablet that had been sitting inconspicuously at the end of our table. Fingers dancing, she quickly navigated through the menus...and showed Jenn how to order. She then put the tablet on the table and waited expectently.

So much for that. I shrugged at Jenn. She shrugged back. I shrugged again and pointed at two random drinks. I was mindful enough to ask for a pizza, as well.

The drinks arrived, glowing neon blue and red. But tasty! The pizza arrived, too, and it was clear it would not be enough food. We would have to order more.

Only, it did not appear that the waitress was going to come to our table again. We would have to order ourselves. Through the tablet. In a written language I could not comprehend.

While we sipped drinks and nibbled on the appetizer pizza, I played with the device. After clicking through a few menus, I felt I was getting the hang of things. Eventually I figured I knew enough that we could place an order.

But what should we order? How would we know what we would get?

After a brief discussion, Jennifer and I decided that cocktails are usually designed to be tasty. Ergo, any cocktail we ordered should be alright. We selected more drinks at random, punched in the order, and waited. A few minutes later, the waiter showed up bearing a tray with glowing green and orange drinks. Success! We had uncovered the means to acquire sustenance!

We had a great time ordering random items and guessing at what might arrive. And we were rewarded with some very tasty drinks and appetizers. Not a single item that arrived that we did not enjoy, and we tried some dishes that might have been discouraging otherwise. All in all, a worthwhile experience.

And I quite enjoyed watching the tipsy Japanese patrons trip over the slippers in the hall.