Friday morning walk through Roppongi

A walk through Roppongi is never dull but last week's stroll to the train station was particularly entertaining. I was meeting my friend's parents in Shinjuku at 10am so I would have been walking along towards Roppongi station at about 9:30am last Friday morning.

I spotted passed out man No.1 in the doorway of a 7 11. He was lying in a loose fetal position, his legs were only slightly curled but his head was jammed quite tightly towards his middle. His back was up against the glass window but his arms were splayed with fingertips touching the black spongy doormat, dangerously close to the sliding door of the entrance. I watched as people approached the store, thinking that they may attempt to wake him or prop him up so his fingers were out of danger of being crushed, but no, they stepped over him and continued into the store.

Passed out man No.2 was at the bottom of the first set of stairs in the train station. He was sitting upright, knees up, with his head bent forward lolling towards his feet. He had two policemen and his friend attempting to rouse him. I observed his fly was open, giggled to myself and then continued towards the ticket gate.

This was when karma smacked me in the face for laughing at the poor unfortunates and I realized I had left my phone on the charger with my train pass in the cover. So, not wanting to be late for my friend's parents, I dashed back past the guy at the bottom of the stairs, past the 711 doorway guy and back home.

On my 2nd walk to the station, I heard a BBC English accented voice calling plaintively for my assistance. "Excuse me, excuse me! Do you speak Japanese?" a young, blonde guy called out to me, twisting his head and upper body around with some difficulty. He had a policeman holding him by each elbow. "They don't speak English, I don't know where they are taking me!"

I had to admit my Japanese was not much chop. I asked what he had done. He said he couldn't remember. I asked how long he had been in Tokyo and he said it had been his first night in the country. I tried to reassure him that they were probably only taking him to the police station at the top of the street. And they must have been called to escort him off the premises. "What premises?" he asked. As If I knew the answer to that! "I'm sure someone will speak English at the station," I attempted to reassure the confused, stumbling traveler.

And that's when I noticed the smirk on one of the policeman's faces. Ah ha! They did speak English.They knew exactly what the young drunkard was prattling on about. I smiled back at the policeman, waved goodbye to the Brit and continued on my way, confident he would be released after a warning.

Roppongi is a vicious beast. Always drawing new crowds in with flashing lights during the depths of the night and spitting them out again in the harsh glare of a new morning. Makes for pretty funny enteratinment for those of us who have become immune to her charms!