![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
My Fun Day
I feel like I have a hangover and I didn't even drink anything last night. Well, a thimbleful of sake, but given my body weight I scarcely think it affected me much.
Our Story starts at 6:00 in the evening. I had planned to go out for dinner at Sakura Garden with my classmates from Japanese, followed by karaoke. I was wearing a skirt and did not have pockets. Why is this relevant? Just as I left and slammed the door behind me, it hit me that if I didn't have pockets, my keys weren't in my pockets.
I subdued my panic long enough to go out for dinner anyway, and it was beautifully authentic. Miso soup, tempura shrimp, sake, oyako-don, and two people ordered shabu-shabu to share so that I could amuse myself with the boiling water and the huge plate of meat. Most Japanese restaurants in Montreal are owned and staffed by Koreans--not that I have anything against that, but it's nice when everyone can order in Japanese and make themselves understood.
Afterwards, karaoke! I was reminded that there are generally at least a few locksmiths with 24-hour emergency service, and I wasn't going to have a chance like this one any time soon, so we went to a nearby karaoke place with Japanese songs (of which I sang several) and private rooms.
Then I went back to a classmate's apartment to use her phone and call a locksmith. We had trouble communicating, between the language barrier and the fact that it was two a.m. But finally, at a ridiculous hour of the night and after spending way too much money to have my house broken into, I fell into bed.
And have a terrible headache, of course. That's not something to repeat too often.
Our Story starts at 6:00 in the evening. I had planned to go out for dinner at Sakura Garden with my classmates from Japanese, followed by karaoke. I was wearing a skirt and did not have pockets. Why is this relevant? Just as I left and slammed the door behind me, it hit me that if I didn't have pockets, my keys weren't in my pockets.
I subdued my panic long enough to go out for dinner anyway, and it was beautifully authentic. Miso soup, tempura shrimp, sake, oyako-don, and two people ordered shabu-shabu to share so that I could amuse myself with the boiling water and the huge plate of meat. Most Japanese restaurants in Montreal are owned and staffed by Koreans--not that I have anything against that, but it's nice when everyone can order in Japanese and make themselves understood.
Afterwards, karaoke! I was reminded that there are generally at least a few locksmiths with 24-hour emergency service, and I wasn't going to have a chance like this one any time soon, so we went to a nearby karaoke place with Japanese songs (of which I sang several) and private rooms.
Then I went back to a classmate's apartment to use her phone and call a locksmith. We had trouble communicating, between the language barrier and the fact that it was two a.m. But finally, at a ridiculous hour of the night and after spending way too much money to have my house broken into, I fell into bed.
And have a terrible headache, of course. That's not something to repeat too often.