A crazy night at Pure with models

Osaka Travel Blog

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Random Observation/Comment #50: In situations like hitchhiking, it might be a good idea to lie and say you’re from Canada or something. However, when you’re out at a club like Pure, New York status can be flaunted without any problems.
The adventure with Maki was cut short because she needed to go somewhere, but Chris and I continued to stay out and have an awesome time at Pure. Warning: this night may be so awesome that it is borderline unbelievable. This is a story I do not need to exaggerate to make interesting.
It was only 7PM, and I remembered from the JETs experience that Pure didn’t get popular until at least 11:30. We had too much time to kill, and I had no idea what we could do because by the nighttime I had always returned to my dorm recovering from the long walks from the morning and afternoon. In order to get a better of idea of how to spend the evening, we went to an information center in Namba. After chatting with the receptionist, her suggestion was to just start drinking early (we didn’t need an information center for this advice, but I think we felt less guilty doing so if a professional told us it was okay). We mentioned that we were going to Pure. Coincidentally, she said that she would also be there after work was over. I wasn’t sure if she decided to go because we were going, but sure enough, we saw her there about an hour after we had arrived. We took pictures in both locations to show the “coincidence.”
My memory of the night was blotchy, at best. Drinking had started at 7:30PM and lasted until 5AM. It would be fine if it were only beer, but the bar mainly served cocktails with double-shots of liquor. As the different types of alcohol mixed, we became friendlier and met so many random Japanese people. Their English slurred with their low tolerance, but it was still understandable. I mostly spoke to Tomoko, asking about her life and different adventures. She was the cute and shy anime type of girl with the avoiding eye contact and giggles. Her subtle reactions gave me the impression that she wanted the night to proceed like any of the storylines she read about. Unfortunately, I could not convince her to stay, and she left before the second party began. Yes, there was a second party.
After drinking heavily from 7:30 to 10, we walked around and talked to random Germans and Japanese chiropractors (very, very random). The hour passed very quickly because, before I knew it, I was back in the club talking to Canadians who were cycling from Tokyo to Nagasaki with weird handled grandma rental bikes equipped with one gear and a basket.
Everyone at the club was very friendly (probably because everyone was drunk from the earlier party). At 11:30PM, the bar was still slow, but by 2AM, the dance floor was full and you had to squeeze through the crowd to get to the bathroom. While some just stood around the pool table and talked with the same drink, others wandered and spoke with different groups. I met a lot of girls, but none of the conversations spoke about my research or aspirations in life. It was all bar talk – observations about the night, traveling tips, and textbook questions to keep conversations rolling. My mind moved from one idea to another, trying to see which topic would fit which person.
By the end of the night, I built my own little algorithm to search for a common topic. Each set of questions and corresponding answers let me peer into her mind and slowly fit her into a generic stereotype. I feel that most people follow this type of approach to learn someone in a quick situation. Keep thinking about the next topic while staying intrigued by her answer; give physical cues that you’re interested; keep your eye out for physical clues that show if she is or isn’t interested; and always be flexible and shift according to your situation. At clubs like these, there are plenty of girls and there is no need to have a forceful or stressful conversation. The words should just flow from your mouth with more of a natural side to it. If you’re not much of a talker, just ask her for a dance. If you’re not much of a dancer or a talker, go into a crowded area and force some ear whispering with a level of closeness between sentences and responses.
Chris has become an expert at this game, but chose to practice it with just interesting looking Japanese guys. I was only away for 15 minutes, but by the time I returned, everyone around the club knew of the American guy making his temporary positive reputation. Because of this friendly nature, he found Yohann, a male model from France. I did find it odd that there were so many beautiful, long-leg girls just waiting at the bars. Once you meet one model, you fall into the neutral zone in the model mind-set (which is better than the normal “everyone who isn’t a model doesn’t deserve to talk to me” mentality). Although some may be open-minded, they never pursue. Instead, it’s a constant series of measurements and physical comparisons before getting to know any real personality. Even if they are ridiculously hot, there’s no reason to be so wrapped up in their own ego. Not that it matters, most guys see these girls as eye candy – something to ogle and talk to other guys about when they’re drinking.
Despite my somewhat negative attitude towards models, we met a lot of them and found that they were eager drinkers. Tequila shots became sequential when two people missed the first kanpai. At one point we did 3 shots in a row because more models filtered through the crowd to talk with what other models deemed as “acceptable.”
I stopped drinking at 5AM, but we went to another club to wait for the first train. Yohann talked to the doorman and said that Chris and I were new American models that forgot our special modeling cards. I swooshed my hair back and flexed my facial features to show off some bone structure. Chris looked off to the side and acted as if he belonged in the club. He was already scoping out the place with some x-ray vision and assumed that he would be free to go in. The girls we were with came in as guests and everyone entered without paying the 1500 yen entrance fee.
In our drunken state, we continued this model image within the club. I was absolutely exhausted, but people still kept starting conversations with us. “So what do you do?” “Umm, I work and travel.” “Oh? What are you working as?” “Mm, I’m a model from New York.” “Really?!? Are you hungry?” “Not particularly, but I could eat.” “Would you like to eat me?” “Nah… chill. I lost my appetite.” “Take me to a business hotel…” “I gotta go to the bathroom. (side: Alright, let’s get the hell out of here.)”
My interest in girls had been replaced by a stronger urge to just go to sleep. It was a rough afternoon.
~See Lemons Pass for a Model – w00t

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photo by: yasuyo