I’ve been described as an enthusiastic dancer, which is about as close to a compliment as I probably deserve. I like to dance and if I’m drunk I’ll go at it hard.
I know I danced very enthusiastically with Nyoko and Aiko. This was at Pacha since we were right there and it was late in the night to be choosy. Still, I kept up with those girls. Aiko constantly rubbed-up against me and posed for Nyoko who took pictures. Very stylized moves that she’d obviously learned from dance videos. Then it went the other way and I danced with Nyoko. Somewhere in Japan there’s a thousand pics of us on the Pacha dance floor.
Or there used to be.
But yeah, I kept up with those girls. For at least as long as they paid attention to me. Only when they stopped did I begin to slow down. It was very late by then, and I’d already had a time. A tale. I couldn’t dance anymore and was happy to watch them together as I slowly faded into the distance.
For some odd reason there was a bit of a rush close to 4:00 or so. Things should have been slowing down; but instead the club got an influx of a bunch of people. I’d got separated from the girls and was just doing one last walk-thru since I doubt my future holds many more late nights at Pacha.
So I took my time as I wandered the various floors of the club. Perhaps my last night on Earth in a place such as this. I absorbed the experience of the primate zoo like an anthropologist: watched the hairless monkeys in their shiny clothes as they gyrated and swayed excitedly to the repetitive rhythms that approximated music. Until, like that man from Mars who ate-up bars and went back to space,
I’d had enough hassle with the human race.
As I worked my way out the club I was suddenly intercepted by the girls. Their faces were flush and wet with sweat. Seemingly afire. And they were with someone new. An Asian guy.
“Lodo!” they said excitedly.
Nyoko exchanged a few words with the Japanese guy. I don't know wher she dug him up. He wore a black apron and dark shirt with a fish logo on the breast. He looked as though he worked at a sushi restaurant. He definitely didn’t look like someone who’d go to Pacha.
Nyoko had to get right in the guy's ear cause the music was so loud and he could only translate for me in fits and starts.
“They say,...they don’t know where you live...but,...if you want,...they’d split cab a with you.”
I looked at the girls; both of whom beamed with wide smiles and glittery eyes. Aiko danced in place. I was about to answer when Nyoko suddenly turned her wrist-watch towards me. It read 4:35; but she quickly tapped the face of the Swatch where it pointed to 5:00. Then she inverted her front fingers into two little legs and made like they were walking out the club.
“Okay, I told her. We dance ‘til 5:00, right? Then we go.”
I knew we had confirmation cause the sushi guy just walked back into the crowd like a movie-dissolve; to the mysterious place from which he came.
* NOTE: Due to the length of this post, I'm going to split it into another installment. Hope to have final segment next time around.
* *NOTE: Pics # 3 and # 6 are mine. All rights reserved (as if there's any material interest in a Lodo Grdzak pic!). The rest of the pics were stolen from Google and are displayed simply to enhance the story.
Japanese girls love taking pictures!
From my table at Birdland:
w/ Mulgrew Miller at Birdland:
"...her soft, genuine sensibility melted away any attitude."
Japanese koto:
By the time the girls got out the bathroom I’d already finished my drink. They seemed somewhat energetic for the time of night; but they were young so it may have just been the joy of youth. The band was down by the stage, and Aiko began to take flash-pictures from the somewhat distant vantage point of our table.
“Hey,” I said to her, “Don’t do that. Here...”
At which point I took her hand and walked her down to the bandstand. We all walked together with our drinks.
And Japanese girls love taking pictures! I mean, I’m sure that’s a stereotype--though certainly not mean-spirited that I can see. But they do! They love pictures. And I happen to take great photos.
So we all introduced ourselves and I got great shots of the girls with Dave Holland and Antonio Hart and Mulgrew Miller. Really good pics that they could look at and love forever. Nyoko in particular nodded her head in approval several times as she and Aiko inspected the camera’s display window like that first night at Smalls.
At some point Kimiko got engaged in a conversation with Dave Holland. He was very familiar with the koto that she’d played as a girl and even knew different regional masters of the instrument. They really got into it. He grabbed his bass and demonstrated similarities between it and the koto. He and his band were great guys--especially Mulgrew Miller; and I was happy for Kimiko that she didn’t feel burnt on the night.
But with Kimiko occupied I soon had no one to translate with Nyoko and Aiko. After a few minutes alone at the bar--and once we’d scrolled thru all the pics for 3rd time; there wasn’t much left to do but mug at each other and make faces. Eventually I was stumped in regards to how else to communicate. I looked at the girls. They looked at me.
...What? they seemed to ask with expectant smiles.
I don’t know, I’m an idiot.
I feared losing the moment, which I did not want to happen. In desperation, I grabbed Aiko’s hand and pushed the pad of her thumb into the cleft of my chin the way she’d done earlier in the week. It was an almost subconscious gesture. Like a dog instantly chews its tennis ball when stressed. There was absolutely no context to it whatsoever; which perhaps was what cracked her up.
Cause man--that turned out to be the master stroke! Aiko and I locked eyes as I held her hand to my face. She knew what I was talking about. I mean exactly what I was talking about. I didn’t need anyone to translate when her hand shot to her mouth in a giggly gasp while her body rocked in laughter. Nyoko gave a slap to the top of my head and the two of them broke into chatter at about 2 billion words a second.
Aiko: “Like that night last week. He remembered.”
Nyoko: “Oh this guy’s a dog, but he’s funny.”
Aiko: “Come here and put your finger in here.”
I’m sure that’s what they were saying ‘cause Nyoko slid next to Aiko on the barstool and dug her long thumbnail into my cleft. A lot rougher than Aiko, without any sweetness. Like my chin was a scratch-game ticket and there was more to be revealed beneath the whiskers. But still, it was fun to look into her young eyes and feel her breath so close.
Eventually the girls left me to re-join Kimiko. She was still with the band and their small entourage, and I was left alone at the bar with my drink to contemplate my night. It was obvious that as soon as I lost Kimiko there’d be no way to talk with the girls; yet my night had already been a lot more interesting than expected. I was prepared for things to end there as I observed the group talk from my distant barstool.
As I watched, Kimiko and Nyoko suddenly stepped aside from the group. They appeared involved in serious conversation--perhaps even disagreement. Kimiko appeared alternately confused and concerned and I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d confronted Nyoko about being lied to. Whatever it was, Nyoko responded in very animated fashion 'til she was joined by Aiko.
Aiko's presence seemed to calm things down. That’s how it was with that girl. She was great the way her soft, genuine sensibility melted away any attitude. I loved her. Truly the piece-of-ass that held the whole thing together. Just like Kimko said.
Soon after Aiko arrived, the subject of conversation shifted. I could feel it even if I didn’t know what was said. They'd reconciled the matter. The girls spoke for a long time, their eyes now and again turned in my direction. Until finally they said their goodbyes to the band and re-approached me at the bar.
“I have to go home,” Kimiko said to me as she turned to share a laugh with the girls, “but they wonder if maybe you’d like to go dancing.”* NOTE: Due to the length of this post, I'm going to split it into another part. Next (final) installment should be completed in a few days. Thanks for reading!
** NOTE: Pics # 3, # 4 and # 6 are mine. The rest were swiped off the Google and are subect to copyrights. All rights reserved on my pics.
Looks like Kimiko (but should be skinnier): "Work on Aiko." 
Japanese Koto:
"...the fashion seminar the girls were attending was invite only." 
"..Nyoko always gets what she wants."
Man, I hit all the notes that night. I assumed the brevity of the girls’ visit meant my only chance was to knock ‘em off their feet or get ‘em boozed-up.
Turns out I’d done both.
But an insurance run never hurts, and in fact I really hadn’t known the status of my situation at the time. Only after the show, when I’d ordered a round of drinks and Nyoko left with Aiko for the bathroom could I penetrate their world.
Those girls were in the bathroom a long time, doing who knows what to each other as Kimiko gave me some solid intelligence on their intimacy.
For example, I found out that the fashion seminar the girls were attending was invite only. That Nyko and Aiko were not only the best students in the class, but they were by far the best students--with Nyoko perhaps being some kind of genius in fashion design (if that’s even a thing). Aiko was quirky and more feminine in her designs; but she had no business mind whatsoever. She was dreamy and things came easily for her, so she didn’t have to be so driven. “Everybody loves Aiko,” Kimiko said with a genuine smile.
Whereas Nyoko...
“...she’s a very interesting girl,” Kimiko told me. “She always gets what she wants. Even if she has to lie.”
“She lies?” I asked with a curiosity. “Has she lied tonight?”
Kimiko laughed hard.
“Not to you!”
“”What’s that mean?” I asked as our drinks arrived.
“...She knew you weren’t in the band. I see that now.”
“Really?” I asked incredulously. “Then why’d she say it? I wouldn’t have cared.”
“Because she wanted me to come. So you could talk. I don’t know, maybe she was confused;...but (laughs again) I doubt it.”
Kimiko and I had plenty of time to talk. As it turned out, she herself was a musician. Not a Dave Holland of course; but back when she was in what would have been American middle-school she’d participated in concert recitals playing a koto, which I now know is like a harp that you play on its back. So when Nyoko told her that they’d met a famous New York musician it seemed worth it to Kimiko to call a babysitter.
“Well,...I’m sorry I don’t play for Dave Holland,” I said as I pushed Kimiko’s drink in her direction.
“That’s alright, I liked this a lot. ...That Nyoko’s funny the way she gets what she wants.”
“..You think she might want me?” I asked.
Kimiko laughed. “I think she wants whatever Aiko wants. I’d work on her Mr. Investigator.” 
* NOTE: In the spirit of keeping the posts moving, I'm gonna split this into another part. Should have next one done by end of weekend.
**NOTE: I hope you know that none of these pics is my own and that all are most likely copyrighted by whoever took them and owns them.
Images are used simply to enhance the story and were swiped off Google. *** FINAL NOTE: Sincere apologies to anyone who read this entry when it was first posted and got directed to a hard-core porn site. Uh,...my bad! Definitely not my intention. Sorry y'all.
Thanks for reading!
