Yuki Matsuri: The Other Stuff

It was such a relief to eat real Indian curry for a change! Japanese curry mostly tastes like the stuff you can buy at your local fish and chip, not bad but certainly not good enough to satisfy a real curry craving.
Post-love hotel we were clubbing it up in a small, almost perfectly dark, bass-heavy club, having a good time but also having trouble getting any water to drink. The barman was reluctantly serving water, but being a real cock about it despite the 7000 yen in cover charges they'd collected. Eventually he flat-out refused to serve any to Evan and Felicia, despite having just served Chihiro and I. This is illegal in Japan, just as it is in The UK, but the two Americans barely speak Japanese and couldn't argue the point, and it was far too loud and I was far too drunk to do so either.

So I got the barman's attention, lifted my water up high, and slowly tipped it onto the bar.

The barman totally flipped out, snatched up a chunk of spilled ice and lobbed it at my head.

So I lifted Chihiro's water up high, and tipped that too.

He ran around the bar and tried to haul me off or something, the next bit got confused as several bouncers tried to hustle everybody out and everybody else crowded round. The funny thing is that the bouncers repeatedly apologised ("I'm sorry, we're very sorry") and allowed us to gather our coats and leave peacefully. Then someone saw all the blood running down my face, most everyone got angry, the barman claimed I'd headbutted Chihiro and thrown stuff at him, Chihiro was crying and it all got a little messy.

Still. Result in my book - the barman was made to look the fool, the police didn't get involved and we didn't leave with our tails between our legs.
A few hours later, around 7am, we caught an hour or so shut-eye in the McHotel.