Siliconchef by Brian Richardson
Friday, June 7, 2002. 11:07pm.
Rappungi District. Tokyo, Japan.
The taxi driver was finally approaching our destination. Well, it wasn’t our original destination. I’m sure we would have already made it to the club if Mark and Hiro hadn’t changed their minds. We had started heading for a place called “Rabbit House”, but the phone call to Hiro’s assistant caused a change in our driver’s trajectory. Now we’re going to One Eyed Jack’s.
Perhaps I should bring you up to speed …
My business day ended about 8:00pm. After we returned from a day of travel and meetings, Justin and I had another hour in the conference room working on e-mail and business proposals. Hiro, the president of our Japanese branch office, kept peeking in the doorway as Justin and I worked with his sales staff. Hiro wanted to make sure we didn’t miss the party.
The party in question was for Mark, a former co-worker of mine. Mark used to be a salesman at AMI. After a few job changes, he ended up as the VP of Hiro’s other company in California. This is Mark’s 39th birthday, so Hiro’s throwing a little party. Dinner is being served in the Italian restaurant in the basement of the office building. Dinner was a mix of business and fun. Along with Mark’s friends from the office, our little dinner was attended by some of Hiro’s best customers (two executives from a worldwide cell phone manufacturer and the chairman of Japan’s largest retail software chain). We spent a few hours eating, drinking and being merry.
This brings us to present time. At this moment I am in a yellow taxicab heading towards Tokyo’s club district. I am on the second leg of Mark’s birthday celebration. I am sharing the cab with Hiro’s personal assistant and one of the executives from Mark’s largest account. Mark and Hiro are in a different taxicab. Mark has called Hiro’s assistant at least four times since we left the dinner party. We’re now headed to a businessman’s club for yet another mix of business talk and adult beverages over ice.
As a result of Hiro’s shifting whims, the taxi has taken a winding (and rather expensive) path through Tokyo. I have seen bits of Akihabara, Harajuku, the Ginza and the Imperial Palace. The situation is simultaneously amusing and irritating. Our cell phone executive is relieved by our change in destination.
“Good thing he made up his mind,” he said, “I hate the Rabbit House. The magicians are horrible.”
The executive is an Iranian working in Sweden. When asked why he moved to Sweden over 17 years ago, he gave a simple response … “I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time”. I doubt staying in Iran would afforded him the opportunity to become a jet-setter who frequents the Asian business scene. Knowing he spends a lot of time in Japan, I’ll assume his opinion of the Rabbit House is based on personal experience.
I doubt anybody goes to the Rabbit House to see magic tricks, aside from watching large sums of their money disappear. The variety of topless bars and hostess lounges collectively known as “businessman’s clubs” are infamous in the annals of Tokyo’s business world. Men talk business while attractive hostesses from various parts of the world serve overpriced drinks, filling the gaps in their discussions with sexy scenery and idle chit-chat.
I’m a bit out of my league with this crowd, but I’m used to that when doing business in Japan. It is a bit odd to see how easily I change lifestyle when I make these little business trips. I’ve temporarily traded my jeans and goat farm for an Italian suit and 5,000 yen cab ride through the streets of Tokyo.
It’s not really my life, but I don’t mind going along for the ride … just as long as as we don’t have to make the cab driver turn around again.
