silly parties: champagne version

Sometimes I get invited to silly parties and I go, without expecting any fun. Often much like the Brut in flutes, the shrubbery and the goldleaf-sprinkled canapes, everyone invited serves as decoration. It’s the price of a free meal that is unfulfilling. Actually I do enjoy walking home from them, ducking into a Yoshinoya for a warm “beff-bowl” on the way.

Genuine mansions with sweeps winding staircases are hard to find in the middle of Tokyo, which is why luxury almost seems genuine at the Mitsui Club. I half-expected to see someone in the role of Anita Ekberg wading in the fountain, visible beyond the rented hall of chatting statues.