What not to do at a nomihodai

by Emma Brooke

Special To The Japan Times

One of the first phrases you should learn when you set foot in Japan, before all the trivial stuff like “excuse me” and “where’s the hospital?,” is “nomihōdai.” The holy grail of budget boozing, it’s an all-you-can-drink offer, provided in many Japanese clubs and bars, for a fixed price and period of time. It is also regarded by a certain sort as an opportunity to get seriously sozzled while trying not to die or spend the evening sleeping in a ditch.

Back when I set out to experience this phenomenon for the first time I was, well, a little confused. Coming from Britain, where all-you-can-drink isn’t so much a good offer, but rather a direct challenge to see how many gin & tonics you can consume without your liver exploding, I couldn’t quite believe it was true. In my mind, the results would be catastrophic. Surely every Friday night Tokyo must be full of blokes with bloody noses and women flashing their knickers while vomiting in bus shelters?

Eager to see a famously reserved population descend into a night of booze-fueled debauchery, I grabbed a couple of fellow newbies and headed out to a little place in Tokyo’s Koenji district named Captain Bacchus, where for a mere ¥980, customers are given night-long access to an endless barrel of wine. And though I was slightly afraid that some of the less-experienced drinkers might meet an untimely death, the prospect of discovering such a Dionysian wonderland was just too good an opportunity to pass up.

As the clock struck 10 p.m., we settled in for a good old-fashioned night of boozing. A few glasses later, heartfelt conversations about our hopes and dreams slowly descended into a succession of drinking games and one extremely high-stakes bet on whether our friend at the bar would ever notice the wedding ring being worn by the woman he’d been chatting up for the past 30 minutes. Another hour or so passed and I found myself awakening on a very comfortable tatami mat that, a little while earlier, I had decided would make an excellent place to nap. OK, I was a little embarrassed — but how bad could it be? I mean, there’s a never-ending supply of wine! There had to be several other poor souls who have unwittingly succumbed to the evil clutches of the all too familiar “red wine coma.”

Or maybe not. Throughout the night, our more experienced Japanese counterparts managed a level of self-restraint that is somewhat alien to someone who has consumed beer through a funnel on multiple occasions. They did have a good time, but when things started to get a little too hazy, they wisely decided it might be time to head home (or at least fall asleep on a bench near the train station).

For the Japanese, nomihōdai is an integral part of contemporary culture, with many people heading down to the local izakaya (Japanese pubs) on a regular basis with their colleagues and friends. The concept boomed as an offshoot of the all-you-can-eat “Viking” buffet concept, inspired by the Swedish smorgasbord and imported to Tokyo in the late 1950s. For the locals it was all in a day’s work and they knew when it was time to call it a night. I, on the other hand decided that, despite the fact I was lying in a puddle of drool, it was time for karaoke.

Now, when people mention doing karaoke in Tokyo, what comes to mind are “Lost in Translation”-esque images of partygoers enjoying an evening of carefree sing-along frivolity in front of a futuristic neon skyline. You don’t imagine a dark, dingy room with a sticky floor and a balding English teacher dancing on a table as he slurs his way through “My Sharona.”

An hour or so in, things turned ugly. After a rather emotional rendition of Disney’s “A Whole New World,” the fella who’d been singing the part of Aladdin had gone AWOL and Jasmine, a lovely American girl who wasn’t usually a big drinker, had begun emptying the contents of her stomach into three beer glasses and showed no signs of stopping. The party was most definitely over, and as the designated “female who could still walk,” I was to ensure her safe passage home while the boys embarked on what would become a citywide manhunt for Aladdin.

Climbing into the taxi, I knew two things. First, my friend was going to vomit again. Second, this must be hidden from the driver at all costs. Things were looking good. I’d sacrificed my beautiful vintage scarf to the cause and initial mishaps had been disguised in the form of a chesty cough. However, Mr. Cab Driver soon got wise, and slammed on the brakes while screaming in a torrent of angry Japanese.

While most people would turn on their best Japanese-language skills and apologize profusely, I, being a little the worse for wear, opted for the alternative “look confused, throw some money, and run away” scenario.

Now I can hear you all scolding me for taking the “easy way out,” while managing to single-handedly give all foreigners a bad name. But you try crouching down behind some shrubbery as you’re stalked by a vengeful taxi driver, all the while wondering how on earth you’ll get a combination of red wine and mud out of a very expensive coat.

  • Ron NJ

    You’re doing more to give foreigners a bad time by writing nihonjinron-esque trash like this under the guise of ~unique mysterious Japan~ and getting it posted on the front webpage of a major English-language newspaper, honestly.

  • Christopher-trier

    In essence, nomihodai is something best done with self-control and self-awareness. One must know one’s limits and keep within them in order to appear at least marginally civilised and mostly fit to exist in the world without a minder present at all times. Perhaps this is similar to southern Europe where alcohol is to be savoured, to be made a part of life without the drinker turning into a bestial fool? It’s a pity that people seem to almost be proud of their stupidity and poor behaviour.

    • Mark Garrett

      Considering the outrageous price of alcohol here thanks to the government tax, I don’t have a problem at all with taking advantage of one of the few ways to even the playing field. Why is it when we as foreigners are presented with this situation we are expected to exercise self-control, when our Japanese counterparts are quite comfortable with vomiting all over the sidewalks and train platforms?

      • Christopher-trier

        We can’t control what others do, only what we do. It’s irrelevant if Tanaka or Sato drink themselves into stupors — we should not.
        Levelling the playing field is an excuse, not a reason.

      • Mark Garrett

        Sorry, I should have clarified that I personally don’t drink to the point of vomiting and haven’t since my college days many many years ago. My issue is with the need for any kind of a double standard. The original writer stated that her “more experienced Japanese counterparts managed a level of self-restraint somewhat alien” to her and that they knew when to slow down or stop. My experiences have been the direct opposite. I’ve seen countless Japanese staggering around the streets, passed out in restaurants and on trains, throwing up anywhere and everywhere, etc. Most of the foreigners I know have far more fortitude and stamina.

  • qwerty

    Next time, get yourself some cheap wine and sick bags and stay in.

  • Jessica

    Nice to read something a little more light-hearted! It certainly reminded my of my first couple of nights in Japan…

  • MeTed

    Do you think Japanese have more control than Westerners? Or is there some biological / ingrained character trait which means Japanese don’t get angry when drunk? As opposed to Westerners who often get angry and violent when drunk.

  • ravonsky

    None of my nomihoudai experiences were anything like this. Our groups tend to be half Japanese, half foreign and no one ever got out of hand. If people want to get hammered, we simply throw parties at our own places. I guess it all depends on if the people are responsibly aware.

  • kiwibird

    absolutely excellent article. You are the modern day explorer.

  • Nik March

    Wow, serious amateur hour. A bunch of lames giving gaijin a bad name. Who passes out in a bar? I’m amazed they didn’t toss you. Too bad because nomihodai is a great deal and a great time. There are many variations — unlimited drinks of any sort, just highballs and beer, just tap beer, nomihodai in karaoke box etc. Most will require some type of minimum food purchase and give you two hours to drink. Usually you are only allowed one drink at a time, but this rule is typically not strictly enforced. I guess a night out drinking anywhere is only as good as the company you keep. Given the maturity level here it sounds like this crew would be better suited for sneaking beers into the dorms or beer-bonging on frat row. Also, who plays drinking games with wine? Utter fail on the part of both author and publisher for running this.

    • Rick

      “Who plays drinking games with wine?”

      You, sir, must have missed out on the coveted Tour de Franzia while you were in your twenties.

    • $35222035

      “Who passes out in a bar?”

      Other than human beings on planet Earth…nobody.
      (Rolling my eyes at the FAIL in that question…)

  • F Gerard Lelieveld

    € 7.50 ???

  • TinJapan

    Not sure what all the fuss is about…its obviously written in jest. It’s a funny article about quote: “What NOT to do at a nomihodai”. These holier-than-thou types are quite funny actually. In my case, I see more Japanese making a mess of themselves than foreigners (ie. throwing up and peeing in the street, sleeping in odd places), although I have seen my fair share of foreign idiots as well.

  • 思德

    This reads more like a blog post from one of the three month interns who works for my company and less like something that should be in a decent news publication. I’m not offended; I just think there is better material out there to publish or focus on.

  • Linnea Spanier

    Was just out yesterday, but only 2 h was allowed, so it didnt get to that point. But pooe the waitor who had to clean up drinks after drinks… 7 foreigners out drinking, where no place left on the table