Last Night Shift In Tokyo’s Womb

Day 5 Part 2

I can’t sleep so I shower, then start getting ready to go out for round two of this day. The others wake at some point after and do the same.

I am first to the lobby, just in time to see Roomie’s new friend from a few nights ago walk in. We talk until the other two arrive, then hail a cab and head to Shibuya. It has been too long since we last ate, so we stop into a little spot close to our destination for a quick bite to eat. What are the chances, but they are playing old school hip hop and R&B, reminiscent of Bestie and I’s teen club days. Although it is after 1 am, this place is packed.

We are seated at the very back in a triangle shaped booth-like room that separates us from the main area. It feels exclusive which I like. The pre drink kicks off; I stick with water because I’m holding out for Red Bull at the club. The meal is quick, and we bounce to the nightclub Womb just up the street. Roomie decides it’s not her vibe and splits, Bestie and I know it’s exactly our vibe and prance into the club like schoolgirls. We are going to be doing this until 100.

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This is what I live for. I don’t even dance but enjoy the debauchery. It’s not hard to find my drink, there’s a Red Bull vending machine on the third floor. No surprise there, Japan has a vending machine for everything. Bestie dances as usual. I exchange awkward moments with strangers who brave the heavy beats to shout small talk at me in an English I don’t understand. It’s easy for things to get lost in translation and I’m amused by their efforts.

DJ Mark Knight finishes his set and it’s close to five am. Bestie and I pull a sneaky maneuver to ditch the clingers collected over the past few hours and exit onto the street. Simultaneously donning sunglasses, we look for a taxi to whisk us away. After a few attempts to explain where we are going the driver finally figures it out and we are en route to our home base in Shinjuku.

Shortly after arriving in our room there is a knock at the door. This is where the youngsters come to after party and it looks like this morning is no exception. It’s Pretty Lady, a fellow trip mate. Still in her dress, as are we, I throw her some joggers and a t-shirt, and we all change into our comfy’s to swap stories in the park. Pretty Lady’s night has ours’ beat for sure.

The hotel restaurant starts serving breakfast at 7 am; so we head back to grab food then part ways to get some sleep. The alarm is set for 11 am and Roomie is first on the priority list if we haven’t heard from her by then.

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