It was just a bad feeling. I couldn’t coordinate my limbs. Stepping forward, I would weave right. Reaching out to the fence for balance, I clutched air and staggered in quick-step fashion till I came to an abrupt stop, arms outstretched, weaving like an unstable antenna.
I tried to speak but my words slid, one into another, in an unintended stream of verbal sound.
“Uuuhthinkuuuuhhhhshouldsitdown …”
I was not as articulate as I had hoped. Someone else said:
“Maybe you should sit down …”
“Uhseddthat…”
I dropped like a sack to the ground. Strangely, my ass felt no pain.
Buddha-like, I remained there in a contemplative pose. My mind was utterly empty of thought except for a sense of perplexity. I could not understand why the world was tilting as if the planet itself was one of those Hollywood gimbal machines they use for rollicking special effects films.
My state of tilt-a-whirl peace then vanished as a new sensation swept up through me, along with much of the alcohol I had drunk and the evening’s Japanese cuisine.
“Ah geez …,” I heard a voice cry. “Well he’s sure as hell not getting in my car now.”
“We’ll have to hose him down.”
“Who was the genius who ordered sake anyway?”
I began to raise my hand as a way of indicating that it was I who had ordered the sake but as I did the world, in almost cinematic fashion, faded to black and I fell into the deep, dark and lifeless slumber of the man who will wake, many hours later, to the agonies of the hangover and other consequences.
No, it was not the best way to introduce myself to my future Japanese in-laws. But then it was Utako’s idea that we should meet this way. Surely it was her fault, not mine?
I’ll convince myself of this eventually.
(Originally published on Crazy Ass Planet, Sunday October 30, 2005.)
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