Osaka Nights

Jared Sanderson felt sick again. A nervous pain worked its way up from his stomach and decided to stay in his throat. He was anxious about going on stage. Ask any stand-up comedian if that feeling ever stops.

Nine times out of ten, they will say no.

As for the one comedian in that group?

They’re probably lying.

***9:13 PM – Thinking about the past…***

Jared was the most popular comedian in the world. The keyword was. His filmed-in-black-and-white stand-up special, Live and in (No) Color, proved to be a massive hit among comedy fans. And after a few sellout tours, Jared made his way to Hollywood and was in a string of comedic box office hits. Two of them, an action comedy set in Las Vegas called Aces High and a workplace comedy about a record store called Vinyl Haven, were deemed “classics” when they were released.

But since then, nearly every American moviegoer had gotten tired of his “goofy but lovable loser” act.

Now, in Japan, Jared Sanderson was as big a star as anyone. Even the worst movies in his filmography, ones his fiancée deemed “bottom-of-the-barrel,” were in TV Asahi and NHK’s regular rotation. One movie, Guardian Angel, a sort of It’s A Wonderful Life parody, became the most popular American comedy film to air on TV Ashi. With a brand new fanbase, traveling to the Land of the Rising Sun became a yearly ordeal.

It was a simple routine; fly in, do a three-month comedy tour, feel like a superstar again, go back to the United States as a former superstar. Sure, flying was never a fun “thing” to do. But, at least he got to fly in business class every time.

However, while reviewing an itinerary for this particular trip, his agent informed him about a high-paying gig in Osaka, “the Comedy Capital of Japan.” He wasn’t excited about skipping out on Tokyo. But when the club owner threw in a bonus, Jared was fine with going to a new city.

He also couldn’t wait to be distracted by Osaka; he just attended the funeral of Hunter Dalton, his Aces High costar.

***9:27 PM – Nursing a soda…***

He sat in the second-to-last stool at the L-shaped bar. It’s a quaint place; patrons in booths to the left could easily hear the ice sloshing around in the busy barkeep’s martini shaker. There were dark red-colored orbs that hang from the ceiling, each of them covered in Japanese kanji. Save for himself, the barkeep, and the group of young executives celebrating a big win at their company, there was barely anyone here. At least, that’s what he thought. He wasn’t fluent in Japanese enough to eavesdrop on conversations.

And yet, he appreciated the lack of company. He could enjoy himself, in peace.

He wished he could take a drag of a cigarette right now. Even after traveling to Japan all these years, he still couldn’t get over how strict they were about smoking indoors. Which was especially strange in Osaka, since nearly every jazz club allowed its in-house entertainers to smoke like chimneys. Instead, this strangely spicy ginger soda will do. As he sips the fizzy sugar water, he winces a bit. This stuff tasted awfully bitter, Jared thought.

“Wilkinson…” he mutters. “Who would’ve thought a Japanese soda would be called… Wilkinson.”

“Sanderson-san,” the barkeep says appearing in front of him. “Would you like anything else?”

“Sure, uh,” Jared said blinking. “I got to be honest, what’s your name again?”

“Ryusuke.”

“Yes, Ryusuke,” Jared replies. “Yeah, do you have any… cola? Like Coke?”

Ryusuke thinks for a bit. He saw Jared’s reaction to sipping Wilkinson and remembered one soda that all tourists love.

“Sanderson-san, may I recommend Iyoshi Cola,” Ryusuke asks. “It’s like…um, cream soda in America.” His overly polite mannerisms and demeanor were throwing off Jared. Maybe it was because this is the first time he’s drinking at a low-key bar completely sober, or maybe it was because barkeeps in America aren’t exactly kind on busy nights.

“Sure, let’s give it a shot!”

“You want it in a shot glass?”

“No, it’s an American expression.”

“Ah, well, here is your glass of Iyoshi. Enjoy your shot!”

Before he could take a sip, Jared realizes its nearly an hour before showtime, with an hour and a half of that being dedicated to working the lights, openers taking the stage, and for Jared to do his weird pre-show rituals (which almost always involve sparkling water and chewing gum). So, he paid his tab in a hurry, but made sure Ryusuke got a good tip.

“Uh, arigato, Ryusuke!” Jared shouts.

“Break a leg tonight!” Ryusuke said.

So, he’s never heard of “give this a shot” but he’s heard of “break a leg?” Jared thinks to himself. He shrugs his shoulders.

Ryusuke stared at the pile of cash on the bar counter. He always knew the patron was American if they left behind money.

***9:38 PM – Walking to the club…***

The lights of Osaka were shiny enough to wake up even the most severe narcoleptic. It was bright and colorful, and once he got over his temporary blindness, Jared got to appreciate the goofy characters on the signs. If he wasn’t passing by a bar or a small restaurant, it was a nightclub. And if it wasn’t that, it was a love hotel.

The ocean of people coming and going on the streets of Osaka made it even easier to hide. Thankfully, he had a cheap pair of sunglasses and a Nippon League baseball cap to hide his face. There were sharply-dressed young men in baggy jeans accompanying their girlfriends with colorful hair. Nearly every food stand had people surrounding it. The salty but sweet smells of smoked Takoyaki sauce from flattop grills filled his nose.

“Remind yourself to get some of those after the show,” he says, mouth-watering at the taste of the famed Japanese street food.

After dodging a few tourists hungrily munching down their own deep-fried beef skewers, the Laugh Out Loud club was right in front of him.

To call this venue a theater would be insulting to theaters. It was barely even a green room. The stage was so narrow a veteran tightrope walker would have trouble. It couldn’t have held more than 100 folks. Maybe 10 more if you were willing to make it a safety hazard.

***10:31 PM – Taking the stage…***

“Please welcome to the stage and performing for the first time in Osaka, JARED SANDERSON!”

The small crowd erupts into cheers. The nervous feeling leaves his stomach and a feeling of adrenaline arrives.

Jared dives headfirst into his set, combining old material with new stuff he wrote on the plane. In fact, most of his jokes involve traveling and all the, what he deems, “nonsense” that comes with it.

“I think the TSA makes it longer because they're jealous of you. Think about it, you get to go a dream vacation and they have to sit there in their pseudo police costumes and seethe,” Jared says. He then transforms his voice into a higher-pitched, dorkier version of himself. “Oh, you’re traveling to Hawaii? And I’m stuck doin’ this shit… well, whoops, looks like you’re scheduled for extra screening. Oh, you’ve got first class tickets to Paris… looks like you’ve caused a bomb threat. Au revoir, bitch!”

The rest of the show seemed to go by quicker than expected. It felt like Jared blinked and now he was offstage, taking selfies with tourists and Japanese fans. A young couple declared how underrated his mixed martial arts themed comedy, Knockout, Tapout, was. Jared laughed and agreed.

*** 11:48 PM – Strolling back on the streets of Osaka…***

Leaving out the back of the club, Jared’s smile was as beaming as the lights of the various clubs in Osaka. He felt his blood rushing through his veins, beyond ecstatic that the crowd was nearly falling over from laughing. Not wanting to immediately go back to his hotel room, Jared took another stroll through Osaka. This time, he decided to walk closer to the water. This time, with two Takoyaki skewers in each hand. The chef recognizes him.

“I loved you in, uh, Guardian Angel! It’s on the house!”

Jared thanks the chef in Japanese. As he walks away, he scarfs them down like he hasn’t had a meal in days.

He made his way to the lower part of the city to a walkway close to the water. It was still bright, but with the reflections of the buildings shimmering in the river, it made for a pretty sight.

Over in the distance, an excited woman exclaims “OH, LOOK THE FIREWORKS ARE STARTING!”

And Jared couldn’t help but grin. He noticed how the fireworks colors complemented the neon lights of Osaka.

“Hunter, you would’ve loved seeing this, buddy,” he says.

It was the first time on this trip, he felt like his old self again.

Jared Sanderson felt okay.