Sachiko is skipping town. I stumbled into her going-away party. I mean, two people invited me to this thing but neither was all too specific about for whom or for what the party was. And this was another co-op party where everybody pitches in a little something for the event. At first I thought that knowing there's something like a door fee was the sort of formality that turned a casual affair into something serious, bordering on an obligation, but I've learned to roll with it as a smart way of distributing responsibilty for festivity costs. And, like so much in Japan, just the way it is. My only complaint is that I couldn't get change for my share. No go-sen en bills in the jar.
I'd not met Sachiko prior to tonight but I known of her. She'd told a friend that she was interested in posing for me. Her boyfriend didn't approve. I imagine it would have been interesting. The girl is a something else. She, and her friend Erica, threw off my ability to distinguish what's cute, what's playful and what's kink. Maybe that's a Japanese thing I've yet to comprehend.