Draft

Even if you are to snag a lady to simply smooth your thumb over on a breezy Sunday morning, or stroll with, or talk with (or be with).

Japan is a society of values, none more so than privacy (be it personal or collective). Izakaye's box people up with lashings of food and booze, they prime people and prompt them like any other watering hole, they tease out those knots of stress, but still, all you'll meet beyond those you came with are barks of laughter and snatches of wanton merriment, echoing, closeted (unlike any other watering hole). The Queen, your neighbour or that girl you saw the other day could be drinking there too, and you wouldn't know it.

So, I give you Guerrilla Karaoke. Any number of solutions present themselves to the gregarious izakaye client at the after party venue, but none more so than this, of shock entry, thrashing open those closets and puncturing those beer-tight seals.

Marvel at their expression!

Accompany their surprise!

Grin like you've never grun before, you're drunk now, you can do anything- except back out. Wrong room for the right reason! Why shell privacy, why ensconce in isolation, why why sing alone or just with friends? Why not with strangers, why not with inebriated strangers. Then will you've rattled loneliness till it's shaken apart.