Nasser is taken to the police box and everybody there gives a statement. I try to plead ignorance but Nasser assures me it's completely meaningless so I write down my name and address as incorrectly and illegibly as I can manage. It transpires that Nasser has some kind of disease – he doesn't appear to have any physical disabilities, so I can only assume it's of the tragic die-young variety – and he is let off with only a warning.
Everybody congratulates each other on our fairly pointless but incredibly skillful show of pretending I don't speak Japanese.
We resume drinking. I reflect on the situation and decide that if my life were a Japanese drama, and this were episode one, and I were the main character, I would end up dating Gyrau Groupie. Unfortunately Nasser has also played such a large role tonight that he would necessarily be a second-tier main, so I'd be getting caught up in his stupidity all the time. Ultimately we realise the trains are now running so we decide to call it a night. Amusingly, the same police we'd just been dealing with are now trying to coax a collapsed drunk back to life.
Haha. Oh, wow. It's Chinese.
|You'd think I'd stop taking clandestine photos after what happened earlier. Nope.|
Another hour ensues as we announce that we will take responsibility for this complete stranger. Incredibly, the police are satisfied with this. We spend another 45 minutes making a five-minute walk, half-carrying Chinese to a karaoke place where we figure we can set up shop and get him some much-needed rest. I jump in and do most of the heavy living, because story of my goddamn life. By the way, have I ever mentioned that I'm pro at taking care of drunk people? I totally am, because I understand what they want and how to trick them into thinking they're going to get it if they do what I say. Just as we're reaching our destination, Chinese slips.
He's been berating us for stupidly helping us out when we should just let him die, so I don't know if the next part is intentional, but it doesn't matter anyway. But holy shit. His hand seizes the back of my neck. I'm not 100% sure what happens here; surely it has to do with the fact that he has almost his entire body weight on the most fragile part of my human body, but I think he must have also gotten hold of a nerve or otherwise something very important.
I'm overwhelmed by the urge to punch him in the face. I ignore it. I cry out. I cry out harder. I cry out extremely hard. I clamp my eyes shut. He stumbles away. I stumble away.
|Worse than it looks.|
I wobble towards Subway, moaning. I smash into the window and use it for support. Oh my god. Holy fuck. Ok. Ok. Oh god. Maybe a few tears slip out. Or maybe they don't. Ok maybe they do but fuck off, I'm also drunk. Nobody even notices until I make my way back, in extreme distress. I'm breathing hard and my heart is like bababababababababa. Everyone is justifiably concerned. Nasser gives me hug after hug until I get a grip. The original plan was to take Chinese into the store, maybe have a few rounds of karaoke, and see what happens from there. This turn of events convinces them to just leave him outside the street elevator. I don't argue; I've about had enough.
I finally go home.