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2001-06-20 - 11:44 p.m. Whatever Akihabara failed to provide in terms of entertainment and excitement, Saturday night's events more than made up for it. I came home from Aikido at around 7, looking forward to a much deserved rest, when Trevor and Megumi mentioned, in passing, that they'd be going out to a party later on that night. I asked if I could come along and, after a brief period of costume change and primping, we were on our way. We walked about twenty minutes to the train station, and then took the train out to Odaiba, which is on the eastern edge of Tokyo, near the buy, before transfering to the monorail. If you ever get a chance to take the monorail in Tokyo, please, by God, do it. I felt like I was five years old, my face pressed to the window pane, watching as Tokyo, the real Tokyo, jewel-bright and faster than light, unfolded in front of me. The monorail is off the ground, so you can see down into the boulevards, and up to the buildings, each outlined in different colors. The monorail passes Tokyo Tower, which is a perfect replica of the Eiffel Tower, expect for the size (7/10ths) and the color (bright orange.) The monorail also passes over Tokyo bay, and the train stop is right near a gigantic ferris wheel, which has one of the best spoke-light-shows I've ever seen. After a brief interlude wandering around looking for the party, we finally spotted our venue (Zepp Tokyo) and made for it. I had a sinking feeling of disaster. Trevor and Megumi had both bought their tickets in advance, and I've been to these sorts of things before. Visions of standing in line for three hours only to be turned away at the door flooded me, but my intrepid guides egged me onwards. I shouldn't have worried. Like everything else in Tokyo, the parties are fantastically coordinated, and there wasn't even a line to get tickets. Now, it is a peculiarity of parties in America that there's always one thing that you want that's either impossible to find or non-existant. It was the hallmark of this party that anytime I wanted something, I had only to look around for it and, lo, there it was. "I wonder where the bathroom is?" I'd ask, aloud, only to realize I was standing in front of it. "I wonder if I could buy something to drink..." Three drink stands later, each stocked with water, tea, orange juice, cider, and beer, I discovered that yes, indeed, I could buy something to drink. There were lockers. THERE WERE LOCKERS!! FOR YOUR STUFF!! The mind boggles. The kids are beautiful as only a subculture can be, everyone dressed in what is obviously their clubbing best. Outside the dance floor, I walk through corridors filled with outlandish colors, textures, hairstyles. Inside, I watch tny girls in eye-biting colors dance as hard as they can, swept up in music that's organic, that picks you up because the DJ is right there spinning just for you. The kids are in things ranging from street clothes to raverwear, to outfits even more elaborate. I watch a posse of four kids, all with long jet black hair, every inch of exposed skin painted a burning red. They're wearing black, they look like demons, they're all so beautiful it makes me ache. I get into it. REALLY into it. I figure I'm at the hottest dance party in Tokyo, I might as well make some noise. So I dance for seven hours straight, with a few breaks in between for water, etc. The funny thing is that this behavior makes people assume I'm on drugs (I don't know, I guess I look like the type) so I'm propositioned about six or seven times over the course of the evening at various levels of intelligability. The music is fantastic, and it's the kind of place that whenever the DJ hits a high point, everyone starts jumping into the air and yelling at the top of their lungs. I spend my time dancing and watching people. At one point I go out to buy water and realize that it's light outside. By the end of the night, people I don't even remember dancing with are smiling and nodding when I walk by. The thing is that this kind of party would never work in America, and I'm not really sure why. I mean, it's not just the fact that they were serving beer until 6 in the morning, which in and of itself would have been enough to ensure disaster. I'm not sure what it is. But it worked. And then there are the performers. I almost forgot. As if the night wasn't complete without them, twice during the evening people come out dressed in these fantastic costumes, PVC, rubber stuff, made up to look like aliens and robots. It's sort of an "anime-come-alive" moment. They stand on stage, dance jerkily, then descend into the throngs, where they are worshipped by hordes of sweaty teens. And the thing about them is that yes, you understand that these are people in ridiculous rubber outfits, but at the same time you really BUY it. Watching them is one half "These people are so lame," and one half "This is the most incredible thing I've ever seen in my entire life, bar none." There's nothing like people dressed as Geiger aliens to really round off a night. Trevor, Megumi and I hitch a ride home with some friends of Megumi's, and I end up in bed by 9:00 A.M., tired but unbelievably happy.
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