On Japanese Hostesses | Brighton
“Jin, I don’t think it’s wise to spend £400 for a couple of hours. A couple of hours of talking to a pretty young thing. The way I see it is; if you’re looking for titillation, there are far more fulfilling ways to go about it.
I’m sure I could find someone to talk to you for less than £200 an hour. They might even let you cop a feel.”
We were heading to a Japanese hostess bar. I’ve never been to one and was curious to say the least. I just couldn’t justify it though. £400 for a few hours of innocent flirting and banter with a pretty Japanese girl.
The way I saw it was, if you were going down that debauched route, there were better ways of doing it. £60 for a quick shag, £50 for a gram of coke and you’d still be left with enough to gamble the rest on black. Surely that was more appealing?
I resigned myself to the fact that his mind was set and decided to chillax.
The night started pleasantly enough. Jin had a crazy idea of going to Brighton at 4pm on a drizzly day in March. I said sure. I jumped in his car with Chris and our adventure began. Jin parked up as we left and asked if Brighton was the best idea. It became apparent that what he meant was that he wanted to go further; Scotland? Wales? No Jin. If we’re going crazy, lets go to France and then see if we can get to Germany, otherwise, Brighton will more than suffice.
<aside> The last time we went to France, Jin totalled his car on the motorway and we were towed back to Paris. We dumped the car and got home on the Eurostar</aside>
The car silently glided forward in a way only a hybrid could and we were off. Brighton was pretty uneventful. We went for dinner at a nice seafood restaurant. The starters were great, but the main of lobster was pretty average. After dinner, we strolled by the beach and decided our night out.
Chris had a glint in his eye and Jin was beyond arguing with. We hopped in the car and took down the baby on board signs. 118 118, can I help you? Certainly. A number was found and some Korean was spoken. £65 a head plus £100 for the drinks. About £300.
“Are the girls attractive? maybe. Were the girls young? maybe.” The man on the end of the telephone dodged everything.
Once we’d made our way to the outskirts of London, we called again. The price had gone up to £400 and we were informed that closing time was at 1am. It was currently 10pm, by the time we’d get there we’d be paying £400 for 2 hours.
What is a hostess?
“…hostessing is a position unique to Japan, evolving over the past 40 years or so out of the 400-year-old geisha tradition as a concession to changing times. Just as the geisha is a mediator and entertainer more than a sexual figure…
…the hostess gets paid to drink and chat with men and ensure that they have a good time at outrageously priced entertainment clubs.”
We got there at 11pm. The place was a glitzy Korean restaurant situated in one of soho’s squares. The restaurant upstairs was owned by Koreans and the Japanese had holed themselves downstairs. Nippon-Korean relations had never been so good, all it took were a couple of bulging nut sacks.
We walked in and were lead downstairs. Asian men were singing karaoke. Next to each of them was a young Japanese thing.
“Would you like to go to a private room? It’s extra at £45,” a polite Japanese man asked. Yes. Yes we will. We were taken to a small room at the back. There was a large dinner table with 4 seats and a bench at the end. We were sat down and offered a cloth to wipe our faces and asked what drinks we would like. The man, who I now know to be called Moto, told us that the bill was £400, but the place closed at 1am. If we’d like to stay for an extra hour, we could pay an extra hundred.
FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS TO SING KAREOKE WITH A COUPLE OF GIRLS.
Jin and Moto, our host for the evening slightly bleary eyed at the after party.
How reasonable, we agreed. Two girls were ushered in. Mine would be with me in a minute. They poured our drinks. Within a couple of minutes, all awkwardness had vanished. The girls bantered and we drank. Whisky on the rocks with a splash of water. Girly, but it’s how I roll.
Chris with “Dora the explorer”.
I don’t think any of the girls were traditionally stunning. They were specifically chosen for us though. Jin got a young doting girl, Chris got the brash upbeat girl and I got a demure young thing. She was adorable.
On the way there, I was so against it. I couldn’t understand why anyone would pay such vast sums just to talk to a girl. What I understand now is, they were selling love. They looked at you with adoration, were attentive and listened to your every word. I guess you could say their guise of love worked. We all fell a little in love. The titillation came from the inevitable self flagellation. Your mind wonders; in different circumstances, could you and her work.
I went outside for a cigarette and asked her for her number.
The place just emphasized how pathetic the male condition is. If a girl is attentive, listens to you and has a modicum of grace, you can’t help but fall for her a bit. I’m the most cynical fuck wit, and even I can admit that I’ve thought about her all day. The girl couldn’t speak fucking English. I’m off.
If you’d like to find out more about the life of a hostess, Cynthia Gralla probably describes it best.
