The title of this post reads as “goro goro” which translates directly as doing absolutely nothing and more idiomatically as “being a couch potato”.
Which is what I did today.
See, the Ringleader sent me a message last night. “East side of the station at ten after nine.” Which was a little cryptic but not unusual. So I called him and asked him if I could park at his place. He asked if I was sure I didn’t want to take the train and just stay all night?
After some back and forth I opted to take the train.
I made it to the station a little before nine and met up with the Ringleader and the Man Who Knew. After greetings and inquiries about everyone’s Christmas, the Man Who Knew lead us off to a yakiniku restaurant. (Yakiniku is a style of bar-be-que that’s very popular here. Raw meats are brought to your table and you cook them to taste on a brazier built into the table. Very good stuff.)
Once established at a large table with beers in hand we awaited the rest of the gang. The Wretched was the first to arrive and soon after the Elder, the Expert, and the New Guy made it in. We ate several plates of meat and drank a metric ton of beer before shuffling off to a local game center. The game center in this case is one of the new school, having not only video games but billiards, a basketball court, fut-sol, karaoke, tanning booths and god only knows what else.
We played pool for a bit and did some bowling and then, in a move vaguely reminiscent of high school, the Ring Leader went out to grab us a bottle of shou-chu to put into our orange juices while we sang our throats raw. It was only myself, the Ring Leader, the Man Who Knew and the Expert left by this time and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Our set list featured the Killers, the Libertines, Green Day, Snow Patrol and I forget what else. Suffice to say that we were singing from around three to just after six.
I got home and crashed. My attempt to wake up around noon ended with me falling asleep in my curry rice. I got cleaned up and went back to bed until my wife made it home around six, where upon I looked as pathetic as I could in the hope that she’d make dinner. She did.
It was good.
Left From Seattle 