A smoke-filled restaurant somewhere in Omotesando. Jars of sake and imojochu decorate one wall. I keep hearing this Romanian song all over Tokyo — the US will probably be inundated with it shortly. So I’m hanging out with Haba-san and Oikawa-san, enhancing the jet lag with Kirin. I ask about the Kyushu skewers that we’re munching on. “Cow organs,” Haba-san tells me. Haba-san’s girlfriend, Kumiko, arrives, and after a few more beers we initiate the time-honored cultural exchange program of teaching one another dirty words.
“I am mad with him,” says Kumiko. “This case. What do I say?”
“Ah,” I say. “In this case, you say, ‘You shithead.'”
“You?” asks Kumiko.
“You shithead,” I say.
“You shit?” says Kumiko.
“No. You shithead,” I pronounce.
“You shit… You shit, head. You chit. Chit head,” says Kumiko.
“Ssshhhit-head,” I say.
“Ssssshhhhhit-head,” says Kumiko.
“You shithead,” I say.
“You shit, head. You, shit head. You. Shit-head. You shithead,” Kumiko said, with conviction. Then, pointing at Haba-san, she says, “You shithead.”
I nod satisfactorily.
Kumiko pauses, and thinks. “What is shithead?”
I love that song. Yeah, whenever I travel I always hear GREAT songs, and then Ihave to steal them off Kaazaa becuase they never get here. I think I’ll write a letter….