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.
The Black Narcissus 
I was so excited to see another post on this topic. Love the photo, it perfectly conveys the late-night smoky atmosphere. You would think with all the second-hand smoke there would be no need to actually light up yourself. My husband uses the smoking lounges in the airports and says the smoke in there is so dense it’s like smoking an entire pack in a sitting. So what time does such a place close and how late did you stay?
A good long discussion with a friend is indeed good for the soul, if not the lungs. It was likely too cold to sit outside. Patio heaters are wonderful for sitting outside and socialising with smokers, but they have their limits.
It was FREEEEEZING outside : impossible, and so I had a dilemma. I was feeling a bit coldy, actually, and knew it wasn’t a good idea healthwise ( like your husband’s horror smoke isolation tanks, which are increasing in number in Japan, the inhalers staring out like pufferfish in a mottled glass fish tank), but D was in bed with a cold and I felt a surfeit of things I needed to get off my chest and so finally I just decided to take the plunge ( into the monstrosity of the toxic fumes that clogged the air around us).
Great food, nice shochu liquor on the rocks (distilled from potatoes it makes me feel as if I were swimming in an ice pure mountain stream), and we stayed until 5am and got a taxi back together – he literally lives next door.
Just being there all evening, however, I could FEEL, physically the ‘air’ that had been circulating in my lungs and as for my work clothes – we both met after work, hence the suits-I had to wash everything, my bag included, in the washing machine. Even if it destroys my clothes, which it does, I have no other option. The smell was shitty, disgusting and gross. I really enjoyed the conversation as he is like my Japanese soul brother, but in future it will have to be in another place.
Most polite and kind of Mr Y.
That must have been a lot to get off your chest, N. Hope it helped, even if your lungs were shot as a result.
Did you speak in Japanese, English or both? If it was in Japanese, I am in awe.
If only!
Sadly that is, and never was, going to happen. I can get by at work, but for deep conversation I need someone who speaks English really well and with a high level of intuitive understanding , which he does.
The syntax of Japanese just will never make instinctive sense to me and I remain illiterate.
Mr. Y, then, RULES. So cool that you have a close Japanese friend who is that exceptional. Sometimes a non-spouse for those purposes is essential.
(Dying to know what you talked about!)
Of course, Japanese literacy or no Japanese literacy, I’m still in awe of you.
I am totally non awe inducing ;
Your awe-struck readers will be the judge of that. ADORE and worship you!
Stop !
Ha!