Saiko

It was my first night in Tokyo. Excited to experience the labyrinthine city, I decided to go to the neon and disorienting streets of Shibuya. A brief walk takes me through growing crowds of business men getting off work, a salty aromatic smoke seeping through kitchen windows ,and eventually the train station. I go through the ticket gate, downstairs to the platform and board the train. As the train weaves through the bridges, tunnels, and buildings of Tokyo, I get flung around only saved by a tight grip on the overhead handles. The train stops and a tune plays “Shibuya, Shibuya” the speakers announced. I exit the station to be met with a cacophony of tourists, street performers, drunks, and a neon blight that consumes the city. I test my luck at a British style bar, maybe there I'll meet an English speaker as alone and confused as I am. I couldn’t have met anyone better than Milos, a Serbian, polyglot working under the table as a tour guide in Japan. “It’s your first night?” He ask...