Smells Like Trouble

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I had a long weekend filled to capacity with parties. Because it was Canadian Thanksgiving (what are Canadians thankful for, by the way? Living in a frozen tundra? Being universally considering a bitch in the international ring? Having a stagnant culture that relies heavily on their Southern neighbor’s?), I had a three day weekend and considering drinking starts on Thursday in university, I had 5 straight days of debauchery awaiting me.

I was going to see HKW in at least two of the parties so I figured I would be able to bust a kokuhaku moment one of the two nights (and hopefully bust more than just a kokuhaku). I was getting fed up with never being able to have a chance to tell her my feelings and I didn’t give shit whether I was going to be drunk as fuck when I did it. I’m an impatient man and when I can’t even tell a girl I like her, I get more impatient.

My level of impatience also tends to be inversely proportional to the amount of homers I’m hitting, so my irritation was sky high. Added to the fact that I wasn’t even attempting to hit first with any other girls made my annoyance higher than wealthy Jamaicans on vacation.

I was going to do it. Sheer frustration had overtaken whatever nervousness I might’ve had, as I just wanted to get it out of the way.

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On Thursday, after a “Language Exchange” with random J-Poppers and Japanophiles that’s more a front to get wasted, I was sitting in a bar with about 12 people drinking cheap beers.

I had a soccer game later that night, so I wasn’t going to get thrashed.

But then I forgot that my tolerance is lower than an Untouchable’s social standing and before I realized it, I was tanked. I changed into my shorts in the bathroom (I was attempting to go to said soccer game), couldn’t see straight, changed back into my jeans (in the middle of the bar) and continued drinking.

After a few more rounds, we headed over to Teddy’s to drink. The group was TKO, Teddy, Kang 2.0, some random Asian guy with long hair (we’ll call him F.A.G. for Faggoty Asian Guy) and of course, yours truly. I had no pressure to score so I got smashed over at Teddy’s as we played Kings with drinks instead of beer.

Somehow, the game degenerated into a freestyle rapping battle between me and Teddy…and I smoked him. Which isn’t really fair, considering he beats me in every other realm of testosterone-fueled battle (social status, pigmentation deficiency, dancing, etc.) and other than math, I can only beat him in rapping. Well, that, and yelling random racial slurs but that’s more a technical win due to his achromatic skin tone.

This night had no bearing on anything, nor is it related to any of the other nights, nor did anything of consequence occur, but I just wanted to boast about beating a white boy from an upper class Canadian neighborhood in rapping.

I got home, tripped over my socks and passed out.

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I somehow managed to get to school the next day, said “bye” to Teddy (he was flying out to the Midwest) and tried to gear myself up for four more nights of partying. I met Kang 2.0 in class and invited her to the party that night seeing she had complained about not being “in the loop”.

It was my friend Ms. Cow’s birthday and she had once mentioned that she wanted to see male strippers but was scared to go because her boyfriend might get mad. So when Kang 2.0 and K-Bomb made their way to our house, me and D-German revealed our plan…we would be human birthday cards for Ms. Cow.

We lay on the beds as K-Bomb and Kang 2.0 drew “Happy Birthday” across our bodies. No, contrary to what you’re thinking it wasn’t erotic in the least. It fucking hurt as they dug pens into our skin. In fact, the girls were having more fun inflicting pain on us.

We put on some collared shirts with ties, bought a 12 of MGD and bounced our way over to her house. The party was raging and with a decidedly yellow tint…besides D-German, the only “white” person was KVP, who’s half. Everyone else was Asian.

So naturally, nothing was happening…HKW was there, so I was pretty fucking nervous. And what gets this author calm?

Drinking.

And even though this was an Asian party, for some reason everyone was pounding back the drinks. So when K-Bomb suggested a strip tease (she was in on our “Birthday Present” idea), everyone readily agreed…

After a few uninspiring performances from the inexperienced Asian masses, me and D-German came up. There was a noticeable buzz as I have quite a reputation for stripping. Besides my ridiculous story of streaking through Tokyo, the first and second time I met most of this group, only a few articles of clothing accompanied me.

Me, D-German, K-Bomb and Kang 2.0 went up, the two girls whipped us into submission (with out ties), stripped off our clothes and we yelled “happy birthday!” as we showed off our chests.

The crowd went wild.

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After the overwhelming accolades we received from our performance, the party resumed back to its original state. But because Asians can’t handle liquor, peeps were dropping left and right like the American economy. Down went the Princess (face flat into the floor), down went Michelle, down went…there were too many small Asian girls sprawled all over the place to count.

As I looked on at the carnage, I got a strange text message from Teddy. “Can you please look after shorty (Kang 2.0)?” In other words, please cock block guys going after Kang 2.0…which, is entertaining to do, but not when I’ve got to confess my love to HKW.

Whatever, this fell in the realm of wingman responsibilities I guess…Kang 2.0 seemed to be doing fine (what kind of Asian male has the balls to hit on a girl in an Asian party…besides me?).

I was more concerned about my friends collapsed on the floor.

I was taking care of the Princess when Sky Blue came over. Sky Blue is a K-chick who’s HKW’s best friend. Perhaps I could gain some inside knowledge by digging for some info?

However, this tactic didn’t manifest itself. Why?

Because I’m a pussy? No (I am a pussy, but not in this situation when I’m drunk and there’s no pressure). Because she thought I was an idiot? No (I am an idiot, but that’s besides the point). Because she hates me? No (not all Koreans hate Japanese people…just most of them).

Because she started to blatantly hit on me.

It was highly flattering (she’s really good looking), but it added yet another wrinkle to my quest to make HKW my girlfriend. Her best friend is hitting on me…

I had no idea what to do…send signals back? Ignore her? Act lukewarm?

Every single decision was a loss. If I send signals back, Sky Blue tells HKW that I like Sky Blue. If I ignore her, Sky Blue tells HKW I’m an asshole (not far from the truth, by the way). If I act lukewarm, she tells HKW I’m socially incompetent.

Thankfully, I didn’t need to make the decision as something else made it for me.

Alcohol.

A hot girl is hitting on you…what the FUCK are you doing?

So I flirted back…but not too overtly…and kept her happy. Hey, this might work in my favor! If HKW finds out I’m getting pursued by other girls my stock might rise! I kept repeating this to myself to justify hitting on her best friend. It’s for HKW’s sake! Not my physical desires!

I finally tore myself away from the trap that was Sky Blue and looked for somewhere else to sit. Aha! Seat open next to HKW!

I talked to her by gently chiding her studious ways, talking randomly about funny junk and making fun of the KO’d Asians sprawled around the apartment (thank god she can handle her liquor!). The topic turned to leaving this party and I offered to walk her home.

She accepted.

Cha-ching! I had promised myself if the opportunity arose to settle this HKW business. I would just bust out the kokuhaku.

And what a golden opportunity this was.

I waited impatiently for the party to dwindle down so we could make a graceful exit.

People started filtering out and everyone decided to leave at the same instant.

Yes! Yes!

We started walking towards the direction of her house. Kokuhaku here in the street? Or once I get to her house?

I weighed the pros and cons and just when I was deciding house over street, I heard a herd of thundering footsteps.

“HKW wait for us! We’re going home with you too!”

Suddenly, this romantic walk home was transformed into a giggling Asian parade and I realized I had been cock blocked. Hard. It was an epic cock block like if rap group came from somewhere called Penis Street (most of you didn’t get that last simile at all…but the ones who did are laughing their asses off).

I walked with them trying to figure out a way to shed these blocks, but I gradually began to realize the fruitlessness. They were an airtight defense. They were going to stay over at her house so I didn’t even have a chance to catch her alone at the door. I wouldn’t have a single moment alone with her. FUCK!

I pretended to be drunk and sick to make a hasty exit, tripped over my socks and passed out into my bed.

Alone.

The drought continues.

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I rolled out of bed at 3pm, made myself a breakfast to (briefly) escape my hangover and listless love life.

But of course…I was painfully aware of my loneliness.

D-German had gone home for the holiday, so I spent a good hour listening to the echo of my knife in an apartment meant for two as I diced every vegetable and meat in my fridge to make a huge 6-egg omelet. A huge six-egg omelet that I wouldn’t have had to cook if I had a girlfriend (no, no, no, I’m not a chauvinist…but being one at this moment greatly accentuates my solitude).

I then spent a good hour savoring it and getting ridiculously bloated. I wouldn’t have gotten stomach cramps if I had someone to share it with.

I showered, put on fresh clothes and I slowly started to feel human again as I applied a dab of gel to my hair while trying not to meet my eyes in the mirror.

I hate being single.

Which was a good thing, as I was going to be at a party that evening with HKW yet again. It was a Thanksgiving dinner at Yusaku’s house and I didn’t eat that much (because my stomach was trying to deal with a 6 egg omelet) nor did I talk to HKW that much (because she was surrounded by a defensive perimeter of roughly ten Asian girls). However, just like the night before, Sky Blue filled the void by playfully bantering with me.

I had thought that maybe my assessment had been off the night before due to copious alcohol consumption, but the dead sober me came up with the same conclusion.

This girl is hitting on you.

I wouldn’t have minded so much as she’s hot, funny and witty (I would’ve actually been ranting and raving—in a good way—about it on this blog under normal circumstances) if not for three things: She was HKW’s best friend, she was doing this in plain view of everyone and HKW was within hearing distance.

So I had to do an odd sort of tap dance as I tried to show a little interest, but not too much, while still maintaining a sort of friendly demeanor that couldn’t be interpreted as flirting.

It was hard.

As usually was the case, I was in the midst of a “Morals vs. Oral” debate. My morals, or my mind, were telling me to not do anything. There was a load of trouble in store if I did anything with this girl. My “oral” side was telling me to reciprocate the flirtation and go all the way.

I was dead sober, and yet this debate was raging. The fact that she was extremely good looking didn’t help. If she were ugly, it would’ve made for a pretty lopsided debate in favor of morals. But because she was attractive and it’s been over two months for me, “Oral” was putting up stiff (pun intended) resistance.

I glanced over at HKW and resignedly threw my support behind morals. There was a better reward if I choose morals (while blatantly ignoring the fact that I would have to find alone time in the right setting, work up the courage for a kokuhaku and then finally have her answer in the affirmative in a decision that even the most lenient bookies were drawing up at 50/50).

But yet again, I wasn’t compensated for my vigilance. Once again, a phalanx of girls escorted her home and once again, I was left out to dry.

I stayed up until 4am with a small group of friends (Kang 2.0, TKO, Yusaku, Yusaku’s girl) telling sad stories about our experiences in love.

I got home, tripped over my socks (due to sleep deprivation and a bulging stomach) and lugged myself into bed.

Alone. Another fucking lost night.

The drought continues.

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The next day a party with friends from rez was in order. No HKW, no pressure, no pitchers except pitchers of beer.

It’s funny, in my rez crowd, I’m known as the crazy motherfucker who can down gallons of alcohol. Nothing could be farther from the truth…it’s just that living in rez (my first year in university) coincided with me learning how to drink. And because I didn’t know my tolerance, I could easily down shitloads of hard alcohol as long as I did it within the ten minute frame between ingesting booze and actually feeling booze in your system.

I’ve had many epic nights in residence as I tore though alcohol. I took out a rugby player in a shot for shot contest (after a wine party, nonetheless), I downed 30 straight shots in 5 minutes, I participated in emptying a 7-story beer bong…the stories are endless and sound just like any other story from a college aged drinker. I only got the rep because I started later than everyone else (people in Canada start drinking around 15) so I was in the “crazy drinking state” while everyone had already graduated.

So whenever I get together with my rez crowd, I invariably get fed tons of alcohol based on the assumption that I can actually handle tons of alcohol. And despite many experiences of me getting destroyed by said tons of alcohol, I guess first impressions never die as everyone still views me as “the Japanese Tank” or the “Blazin’ Asian Invasion” or whatever stupid ass nicknames they call me by (I actually enjoy these nicknames but in a rare act of modesty, I’ll pretend I don’t because these labels are applied by college fratboy douchebag types).

And when people egg me on, I never back down. So when the rez girls sang the chugging song, I chugged. And chugged. And chugged.

I was convinced I was going to hook up with one of the girls…because she liked me back in rez and because she was actually interested in the really intelligent idea I was trying to communicate to her through a blockade of slurred speech and limited motor abilities…

But I got drunk, tripped over my socks and passed out.

In the middle of a bar.

The drought continues.

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I woke up groggy, in a rez friend’s bed, ate breakfast with him and then slumped over to my house.

I checked my email…Kang 2.0 thanked me for all the great partying (she also went to the Thanksgiving dinner, where I had fun cockblocking guys while trying to flirt/not flirt with Sky Blue) and as a token of gratitude, invited me to a Thanksgiving dinner held by some Japanese professor in the boonies.

It was in the boonies.

It took nearly an hour to get there, and seeing as Montreal is a tiny city (ok, it’s not small, but with only Tokyo, Texas and NYC as reference points, it’s minisicule) where walking for ten minutes gets you to a suburb, it was the middle of nowhere.

The crap cars that cough up and down Mont Royal soon made way to Benzies, Bimmers and Rolls Royces. The gaps between houses became pronounced. Bakyards and frontyards were popping up sporadically. Soon, any semblance of city was lost as a fucking forest bordered one side of the road.

In a slight aside, I’m fucking scared of forests. Think, I’ve never really been in a forest (ski slope groomed tree planting does not count), so to me it represents all those spooky ass stories you hear as a kid. I know how to deal with hoods, gangs, criminals, hoodlums, but what the fuck am I going to do when a fucking bear or wolf or moose attacks me? I can’t talk my way out of a fight. The biggest man I know is 6’8, 280 and can bend aluminum baseball bats. The biggest bear I know is 8’3”, 800 and can probably fucking bend time. I remember when I was about 8, my family moved out of the hood to a middle class neighborhood and there was a tree outside my building. Me and my brother stayed up all night with pocket knives determined to save our family from the pack of wolves that we were certain lived in the “forest”. Fuck, I remember being scared of moss the first time I saw it (when I was 15)…what the fuck, it’s Astroturf but living?

I know it’s highly irrational, but I’m sure everyone is fucking frightened of something. Most people are scared shitless of the ghetto that I call home…so don’t fuck with me. I’ll fucking camp out in a forest for ten days if you can walk through my hood for ten seconds without calling 911.

I knew something bad was afoot. A forest equals trouble.

I got to the party and I figured the assessment was wrong.

It was the most innocent party ever.

The host was a really old grandmother type Japanese woman…her husband was an equally unassuming old white intellectual.

The other people at the party were all Japanese girls (except KVP and Kang 2.0, but they’re pretty much Japanese in my mind). There was nothing wrong.

I guess the “wrong” thing was that since they were all Japanese, it was really awkward. Everyone was too shy to talk and the hosts were obviously not going to stimulate conversation. Alcohol was present, but in such minute quantities that even tiny Japanese girls weren’t turning red.

Everyone ohhed and ahhed over the turkey (besides me and KVP, no one had seen a turkey before) and went nuts over the electric knife. As usual, a photoshoot started as the contingency attempted to photodocument everything from every angle.

We sat down to eat and the seating order had changed, I was at the extreme end next to some Keio exchange student and the professors were at the other end of the table.

The professor side of the table started idle chit chat about school and majors and shopping in Montreal…and our side was dead silent.

None of the Asians were going to talk…this looks like a job for me!

I started recounting the story of how me and KVP met because it seemed like the most appropriate story to tell. Keio Exchange girl (who I will now refer to as Onna) loved it. The girls within hearing distance (the professors were obviously outside hearing range) loved it. KVP was having a blast as we recounted the tale.

As I was telling the tale, I couldn’t help but notice that Onna was laughing the most…so I was naturally telling the conversation more to her than to anyone else…and there was something about her…

When I had first walked in, I had recognized her from before. I had met her during Activities Night (a night where university clubs try to recruit new members) as I signed her up for my Japanese club. Back then, I had noticed something…but couldn’t put my finger on it…

I felt like I had met this chick somewhere, but her name didn’t ring any bells nor could I think of a way we could’ve met…we ran in completely different circles…hell we were in different parts of Japan when I was there…

I slowly realized I was attracted to her…but why? I was furiously chasing HKW, and this Onna girl wasn’t that physically attractive (I mean, she was cute)…she might be funny or something but I had only met her for all of ten minutes…

I was stumped.

But I also had a duty so I threw it on the backburner. I was the center of my half of the table. The J-Girls were eating my stories up.

“You’re crazy!”

“You’re amazing!”

“Tell more, tell more!”

I went through most of my repertoire (while saving a few good ones for next time) and tried getting them to talk.

They obviously had no comparable stories (except Kang 2.0, who had crazy stories about dating Yakuza head bosses and New York City modern artists), so they clamored for more of mine.

Of course I couldn’t refuse. I’m egotistical, a narcissist and extremely self-centered. There was no way I wasn’t going to tell stories.

After a few more, I asked them to tell me about themselves…and they all talked about boring shit they’ve done (it wasn’t boring…but it didn’t leave an impression a week later when writing this…so it’s boring). Onna happened to like hip hop and break danced and my interest in her skyrocketed.

Who the fuck was this woman? Where the fuck did she come from? What the fuck was she?

I was still stumped…what the fuck is making me attracted to this girl?

We finally left the house to all go our separate ways. It was me, Kang 2.0, KVP, Onna and a random J-Girl walking in my direction.

Onna and random J-Girl led the way as me, KVP and Kang 2.0 meandered behind. I was furiously texting Teddy (who had just touchdown into Montreal) as he was trying to intercept our group to meet Kang 2.0 “by accident”…and so I wasn’t really looking ahead…

…so I didn’t realize they had stopped at a red light…

…and I walked smack dab into Onna…

…nearly killing her as she ricocheted a few feet into a busy street.

Normally, I would’ve hurried over while profusely kowtowing to show my apologies but I just stood there with a dazed and dumb look as my cellphone fell from my slack grip and exploded into a thousand (actually two) pieces on the pavement.

In that brief millisecond that I had rammed into her, my nose had smashed into the back of her head…

…and though my nose was rapidly swelling form the impact, I didn’t feel it…

…because what I smelled reminded me of fireworks in Japan, chugging beers on rowdy summer night, a wonderful spooning session in Montana, a complete defeat in Calgary, the ensuing vicious withdrawal cycle in Montreal…

…and my first love.

She used the same shampoo as Chiaki. A shampoo sold only in Japan, which clearly no one in Montreal should be using…

That’s what I had smelled since the first time I met Onna…what had attracted me to her since the minute we had met.

Everything fell into place.

I blinked me eyes twice as she picked herself up from the pavement.

She was wearing black tights under jean shorts with a black top…just like Chiaki.

Her figure even looked just like hers.

Her face sort of did too.

Shit…

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Photos

Language Exchange
...Or drinking party?

Cow's Birthday
I have a feeling "Me Love You Long Time" works with half of this group

Me, Cow, D-German
The "Happy Birthday" is barely noticeable

D-German
Getting drawn on by K-Bomb and Kang 2.0

A Reaction
To Our Striptease

HKW and Sky Blue
Can handle liquor...

The Princess Can't
KO!

Yet The Party Raged On...
Who doesn't fit in this picture? Hint, Y chromosome...

Sky Blue
A reference to see what I have to deal with...

The Onna
Center girl