I woke up on July 15 feeling like death. Or at least how death would feel if he (or she) drank too much the night before. Like many other mornings after an overindulgence, I started to wonder why, exactly, I was feeling so terrible. The thought of “I didn’t drink all that much, did I?” bounced around in my swollen, throbbing brain. At that point I started doing the drink inventory from the night before. Beer before leaving the house, 3 very large beers at the bar, peach fizz, another beer, 2 gin tonics of undetermined strength and then one, or was it two scotches on the rocks. Upon reflection I realized that it truly was a well deserved hangover.
Despite my condition, there was no time to sleep and recover. Checkout time was 10:00am sharp. Before leaving I would need to shower, get dressed and ensure I wasn’t forgetting anything. This involved some horrible situations where I would need to put my head down to look for things which caused my tiny hotel room to spin wildly. I was not having a good time.
I managed to check out, which then brought the next challenge; my next plans were in Atami at 6:00pm, and it would only take me 2 hours to get there. The thought of taking slow, gently rocking trains or wandering around Tokyo in my condition were not very appealing. The thought of finding a nice cool cave to hide in for the next few days was appealing, but the only real option I had was to call up Azeroth and hope he was free for some low intensity hangouts. Fortunately for me he was available and was going to meet me at the station after calling his parents at home.
While waiting, I had time to get some food into my system. Usually when I am in Japan, I try to eat Japanese food as much as possible. However there was one sign calling out to me. One bastion of hope for my unhappy stomach. One glowing beacon of familiar grease that could quiet my unease. The sexy yellow curves on the red background were literally calling out to me in my moment of need. I decided to go for it, and shakily walked into McDonalds and ordered an Egg McMuffin combo, and it was glorious.
Azeroth and I met at the nearby 7-11 and stocked up on hangout food. I grabbed sports drinks and a product called “Morning Banana” (insert penis joke here). In the past I have read that bananas are good for hangovers, so this seemed like a good time to test the theory. After a slow walk to Azeroth’s tiny apartment, I sad down and opened the top of the morning banana and took a – drink? Imagine, if you will, banana flavoured gelatin. Now imagine that someone chewed it up into tiny pieces and spit it into banana flavoured yogurt. Now imagine slurping the result out of a straw attached to a foil bag. Yes, it was that good.
Following a few hours of Call of Duty, YouTube videos and general hanging out, the hangover started to finally wear off. I was able to get to the station and start my journey towards Atami. In my younger days I would have made a solemn oath to my liver that I would never drink again. The best I will do these days is swear to my stomach and taste buds that they will never again, as long as I live, know the horror of Morning Banana a second time.
Drinking in Japan 