Show time, the final installation.

[parasitegirl]

It’s show time. Showtime was pretty anti-climatic…but I will try my best to make it worth the read.

 

We’d been waiting on the stairs in front of the Gaijin Ghetto bathrooms (warmest place in the hood) occasionally scaring small children and a meeting some super-skinny Japanese hip-hop dancers (who may have been on Japan’s drug of choice…speed…never understood that) when Ochi came to fetch us. We did a quick foot check (warm but silly socks off, black slippers on) and followed him down the stairs towards the stage area.

 

On our way to the film-stage we passed by windows and doors framing long lines of people waiting outside. I don’t know if they were waiting to come in to watch the program being filmed, or if they were waiting to mob any famous people leaving. They became excited as we went by. Claudia began to wave regally at the on-lookers.
 
#4: Don’t wave!
Claudia: Why not?!
(pause)
Bug: Waving is better than what I’m tempted to do
#4: What?
Bug: This! (executes some hip and ass shakes, lifts chest twice, turns to look over shoulder and makes a kissy face…all while keeping up with Ochi.)
 
And we all laugh.
 
We entered the sound stage area, now filled with 300 some on-lookers, and we were quickly lead by Ochi across wires and past the Towa-Towa’s to the cold backstage once more. The big men were all camped out on sofas, but soon they were taken away, leaving the four of us and some random techies, to wait.
 
The part of the backstage we were in was like any backstage in the world. Impossibly tall ceilings, black wires and tape everywhere, shelves piled with black velvet curtains, various props, wooden floors and all the luxury of a poor art student’s first warehouse apartment.
 
The four Poppy Sprites began stretching, spinning, undulating, shadow-boxing (yeah…me) and dancing in place. All performers have pre-game rituals. Individually we ran through our own. At one point Ochi came back to check on us and became agitated because he thought Claudia had vanished, until we pointed to her body in a corner moving through a variety of floor stretches.
 
Every once in a while we would just mill about, listening to the hostess and one of her guests talk. It was all about her fortune telling predictions and was a little hard for me to follow. The hostess had a thick voice and kept coughing.
 
#4: Has she got emphysema or something?
 
Circus girl told us how she really wished she’d had a chance to meet the hostess and have her fortune told. I thought about Wataguy’s emphatic comment “Do NOT let that fucking bitch (the hostess) touch you.” at which point I saw a picture of her on one of the over-sized monitors and realized it was that fortune telling BITCH from Iron chef.
 
Time to go behind the HEAD. We took our places on the black platform and waited. Directly behind us was a jumbo-tron screen showing Tsubasa’s star chart. To the sides were many giant angled mirrors giving me yet another glimpse of how very much we looked like exotic hot-house flowers that had accidentally been delivered to a funeral.
 
While on the platform we continued to undulate and writhe in place, to the enjoyment of the folks working the HEAD. I should point out that the HEAD was manually operated by techie-grunts. While creative techies wore hip glasses and comfy sweaters, these were larger Japanese men in work caps and flannel shirts. They just sort of stared and glassily smiled at us in a way we had become accustomed to. #4 swatted at me when she caught me pretending not to watch them while I did unnecessary chest lifts and drops.
 
Things got quieter. #4 and I got down into position as we all quietly exchanged comments “Happy New Year!” “Remember to let go of the damned robe!” “I hope that fucking fog machine doesn’t expose the fact I ditched those panties in favor of my own flesh-toned ones” and “I’m so glad we got to know each other.” Followed by “I’m so glad that this day didn’t fucking suck all day like it did at 9AM this morning.”
 
Show time…
 
Circus girl was watching the monitors, but with viels on our heads you couldn’t tell…she says we looked good. All I know is that we hit our cues. Over the gap between platform and moving runway, stopped on the stairs, encircled the talent, DADUN! And the robe was off! I tossed my half to the side. And back to the star…KAPOW! Fire and noise and #4 jumps a little but we removed the mask…I was finally next to the Pop Star for real and I don’t even think I saw his face while the audience went wilds because it was time to spin away, grab the robe from the floor, and be the last sprite off the stage…prancing off in a manner suggesting how fucking elated I was to be carrying cast off clothing (or perhaps the joy any servant girl would feel at not having been killed by King Tut’s eyes of green DOOOOOOOM.)
 
Once off stage I was the only one doing a touchdown dance…but we all were giggling.
 
Ochi brought us our slippers as we kept asking “Was that it? It’s over?”
 
We changed and exchanged cards. Ochi helped us get a cab voucher for #4 so she could get to her next gig. Bows aplenty.
 
Exhausted, and with enough of a severe blood sugar drop that I got a little retarded, the three of us got pastries and snacks near Disney land. There were hugs and we went home.
 
The End…until I get to see the final product.

Comments

[misa1.livejournal.com]

I browsed the calander rack at sanseido this past weekend, and low and behold, there is our favorite crotchety fortune teller / talk show hostess / ill-tempered iron-chef ajudicator on her very own poster sized calander! I almost wanted to buy it. We need a new calander for the kitchen wall and wouldn't she add a lovely sort of surreal old kooky bitch vibe?
In any case, I thought of you and wished you well on your dancing endeavor. ^_^

[parasitegirl.livejournal.com]

They pay well!

[magicfuzzball.livejournal.com]

i think, officially, your life has topped mine in terms of random and interesting. :)

[powerful-words.livejournal.com]

I see you still have the same attitude toward gawkers as you always have. ^_^

[pockyman.livejournal.com]

As stupid as this is, I am still looking forward to point at the screen and going,

"that's my friend Kayt! She rocks! AND she didn't kill me all the times I was stupid!"

^_^

Merry Christmas, Kayt. ^_^

All your pain was worth it for me -

[robinrook.livejournal.com]

- because "how very much we looked like exotic hot-house flowers that had accidentally been delivered to a funeral" rocks my head as a literary - literate - you get the idea of the kind of adjective I want here - bon mot great even for your witty white ass. Or whatever part you're writing with. I want to meet the wall machine, I caught a fever last weekend and it's left me in preverbal outer space. Did I just dismiss your TV dancing debut as pain that amused me? I didn't mean that, I think. Who would've led me to see it that way?

WOW, it's nice to be back in your world. Or have you back in mind. Mine. Er. I need a nap.

Re: All your pain was worth it for me -

[parasitegirl.livejournal.com]

"Back in mind" is apt but a mistake, deshou?

It was pain that amused me as well. And now all Gaijin (leader gaijin, claudia, and the gaijin who couldn't do the gig) have read it and don't hate me... which I think of as an acomplishment.