Sally-Part 42. TOKYO 2. THE GEISHA WHO THOUGHT I WAS HANDSOME!

Jonathan's girth meant that he needed frequent refilling with gagantuan amounts of food.

THE TOILET CISTERN DOUBLED AS HIS BATH! IT WAS A HUGE TOILET!

 I think that the popular images of Henry VIII sitting gorging on a whole side of beef, chased down with a large flagon of beer and then followed by a suckling-pig, a swan, a leg of lamb, a dish of chops and a pan of fried eggs would hardly be an exaggeration of my son's intake !

JONATHAN ON THE LEFT WORKING UP A BIT OF A SWEAT BEFORE DINNER

But this was Japan and he announced that we were to be honoured one evening by a powerful trade-union leader taking us to a Geisha restaurant.

 Upon arrival we were greeted by an exquisitely beautiful Geisha bowing us into a private dining area, where I attempted, unsuccessfully, to sit cross-legged on the floor with my knees under the table. Oh! The pain!

Thankfully I was brought a cushion which eased things.

Well, that is, I was now raised slightly and leaning over to the left with my right leg half-straight under the table, my left elbow, now below my torso, taking all my weight and going rapidly numb and my right hand forced to achieve a wholly novel approach to opening pots and levering out various long-dead dainties whilst still serving my Geisha a rapidly increasing number of whiskies ( see below ) and downing my own and spectacularly failing to camouflage the texture or taste of the unidentifiable!  

We were served an astonishing variety of covered dishes with a centre-piece of a raw, skinned trout posed as if it was leaping a waterfall on it's way upstream to it's spawning grounds or perhaps leaping to catch a fly!

THE WHISKY WAS STARTING TO TAKE EFFECT EVEN BEFORE" THE BOGIE" ARRIVED

Whatever, one was expected to carve slivers of flesh off it and dip them in a sauce before eating them. This was slightly alien to Julian and me though, of course, Jonathan virtually had the whole thing down his gullet before we got to it.

Whilst we ate, the Geisha, and I must repeat here how entrancingly beautiful she was and how much more beautiful she became as the alcohol took hold, kept topping up our glasses of whisky and beer.

 Now, what we had to learn was that once she had done that we had to fill another glass for her to drink, all of us getting progressively drunker quite quickly which actually helped with the consumption of most of the strange looking and evil-smelling dishes that I believe no modern Japanese would eat if it weren't for the historical links to past generations.

Things came to a head when even Jonathan nearly vomited at the sight that greeted him when heaving upon a skewer thrust through the top of a potted lump of flesh, he withdrew the biggest, greyest wobbling bogie known to man!

Admittedly, he did try eating it by lifting it above his head before lowering it slowly into his gaping mouth but as his teeth closed around and bounced off it he retched and thrust it back into it's pot, groaning, " I'm so sorry Ammeechicon! Even I can't eat that! "

Our Geisha smiled, her eyes turned modestly downwards with a gentleness that would have melted the heart of any man!

That bogie did it for Julian and me and we pushed our selections away, apologising for our English Philistine inability to eat such fine food and asked the Geisha to tender our apologies and compliments to the chef and Emperor!

Our host was thankfully too drunk to be offended.

Next came a rather bizarre session of dressing up in yokels' costumes and singing Japanese nursery rhymes. It was a bit like visiting a farm of Cornish simpletons for their version of a good night in!

I had slightly guiltily thought that an evening at a Geisha house would include being serenaded to by young ladies well versed in the arts before being led away by three or four of them for a night of the sort of indulgence that you wouldn't be bragging to your wife about and which your mates would refuse to believe!

What we got after the singing and more whisky than I'd ever drunk was a half hour restful session of coffee and chat with 'My' Geisha and her ancient and shrunken unmade-up mother and sisters who seemed most keen to practice their broken English by telling us about how Japanese Women's bras had only 'A' cups, whereas English women's bras had 'D' cups!

Even drunk, I suddenly didn't care to find out and as that terrible feeling of pre-vomit-cold-sweat had swept over my scalp, I was glad that the evening came rapidly to an end.

As we swayed home I suddenly had a clear vision of 'My' Geisha's beauty. But something wasn't quite right. I realised through the haze that her teeth were tiny brown stumps and went to sleep with that thought invading my dreams!

In the morning, after several cups of strong black coffee, I mentioned her teeth to Jonathan who said, " I think you'd better come with me!" and he led me back to the restaurant where a stooped elderly lady was sitting smoking a cheroot and greeted him warmly as he approached.

" Ah! Jonasan San! Your father velly handsome man! "

"Dad!" This is Ahmmeechicon, last night's 'Geisha'! "

Oh my Gawd!