I was in the mood for talking, properly, extensively, in the flesh, all night long, from the mouth, not just on a screen, and so on Friday night in Ofuna I went out with my friend, neighbour and colleague Mr Y – see photo above – in the smoking section of the only izakaya pub open at that time, and it was good : for the spirit.
For the lungs and for stench though, I must say that it was one of the worst I have ever experienced. Although he refrained for the first three hours – an exemplary case of Japanese stamina and consideration, I finally realized that he had been doing so only for my sake, which I appreciated but which seemed futile in the smoke hellish section in which we were seated, and I think he was gasping, and craving, and so started.
The next day, though. The smell.
I am not entirely sure that I can ever do it again.