This all happened in one night. One moment you were downing your third Veuve Clicquot champagne, the last full bar you heard Brent utter after a bite of the Iberian ham was "we're gonna have to carry this girl home." The next you were whisked to a ballroom full of the party people, normal looking party people except the occasional patterned kimono or yukata. Your head grew dizzy, like it's being squeezed. The boy band on stage did perfect boy band dancing. You ran to the counter for a glass of water, the bartender says something about picking up coins. You ran to the bathroom, a row of bunny girls took over real estate around the mirrors. You wait in line to pee, thinking about the Yakuza boss man and what the fuck did they put in the champagnes, then next thing you know your eyes snap open from your head hitting the ground and a girl gasped and helped you up and pointed to your head, "atama!" and kept on asking "daijoubu" and pulled out a chair for you and asked you to "sit sit" except that part was probably also in Japanese and all in all you were having an out of body experience at a Yakuza jewelry line money funneling party and all you want were the bunnies, where the fuck were the bunnies? "Hey where are you?" Came instead your boyfriend's text.
It felt like 4AM but it was only 12AM. You found your way to keep together your "atama" and you made it back to your boyfriend.