Getting a table isn't difficult; I greet the hostess on duty, a pretty young woman with a strong British accent, with a warm smile and casual hug. She's studying in Japan for her master's degree, and I politely ask after the state of her studies before introducing Gotou-chan. She recognizes the name, beaming at him.
"Date-san's coworker! I have heard good things about you. Here, right this way."
We're here for the beer, but there's a fair selection of munchies, including something touted as "quintessentially American" -- jalepeno beer-battered cheese-stuffed pretzel poppers.
We order the plain fries.
Gotou-chan's drinking slowly tonight, and so I match him in pace; I've got a higher tolerance, so I can drink four or five and not have too much difficulty at all, but I make sure to keep in pace with him, only ordering my second once he's most of the way through his first, and so on.
I don't want him to feel pressured, and I don't want to end up overindulging and making him babysit me for the rest of the night. Normally I don't have to put conscious thought into my drinking, but tonight's...not normal. Not at all. And I want to make sure that I show him that as much as it pains me, I do mean it from the heart when I say that anything further between us, from here on out, is his decision to make.
The beer is as good as I remembered, and there's a few other varieties to select from as well; I advise Gotou-chan on the pros and cons of each, settling into comfortable conversation. It takes me a little while, but after my second beer and an hour or so, I'm feeling much more settled, much less upset.
Not that I was that upset to start with! Gotou-chan is more worried about my condition than I am, but I hate to worry him, and that just ends up turning into one kind of cycle or another. But I'm not as anxious right now, as we finish off the last of the fries, contemplating whether or not to get one more beer or close our tab. And to my great relief, it doesn't look like he is, either.
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"Date-san's coworker! I have heard good things about you. Here, right this way."
We're here for the beer, but there's a fair selection of munchies, including something touted as "quintessentially American" -- jalepeno beer-battered cheese-stuffed pretzel poppers.
We order the plain fries.
Gotou-chan's drinking slowly tonight, and so I match him in pace; I've got a higher tolerance, so I can drink four or five and not have too much difficulty at all, but I make sure to keep in pace with him, only ordering my second once he's most of the way through his first, and so on.
I don't want him to feel pressured, and I don't want to end up overindulging and making him babysit me for the rest of the night. Normally I don't have to put conscious thought into my drinking, but tonight's...not normal. Not at all. And I want to make sure that I show him that as much as it pains me, I do mean it from the heart when I say that anything further between us, from here on out, is his decision to make.
The beer is as good as I remembered, and there's a few other varieties to select from as well; I advise Gotou-chan on the pros and cons of each, settling into comfortable conversation. It takes me a little while, but after my second beer and an hour or so, I'm feeling much more settled, much less upset.
Not that I was that upset to start with! Gotou-chan is more worried about my condition than I am, but I hate to worry him, and that just ends up turning into one kind of cycle or another. But I'm not as anxious right now, as we finish off the last of the fries, contemplating whether or not to get one more beer or close our tab. And to my great relief, it doesn't look like he is, either.