State of this American male

So last Saturday evening we attended the festivities celebrating my sister's birthday. Although the intent was to go to P.F. Chang's for dinner, the wait as of 7:00 p.m. was two hours (for a party of nine), so instead we opted for the Japanese teppan bar place next door, Wako something-or-other (named for the town in Japan, I assume), where the wait was about 20 minutes.

While we waited, we ambled over to the bar and ordered a round of drinks. Many in the group selected specialty drinks from the drink menu next to the bar, including things like green tea vodka martinis. I glanced at the ingredients in something listed as the "Wako Castle": vodka, whiskey, sake, plum wine, and some mix that escapes my recollection. Far and away the most alcohol of any single drink on the menu. Feeling particularly manly at that moment (for some reason), and not doing any driving at any point during the evening, I ordered that.

Then as the bartender started to prepare it, I noticed him put ice in the blender along with the ingredients. Hmm. It didn't mention being a blended drink, but oh well; if that's what it was, that's what it was. Still: vodka and whiskey and sake.

Then rather than reaching for a glass, he pulled out a… vessel… shaped like a castle in Wako (I am led to believe) and poured the frozen concoction into it. I looked back at the menu and realized I hadn't noticed the small print noting the drinks in that section came in a souvenir glass. "That you keep."

Well, uh… vodka! whiskey! sake!

And then he inserted into a small hole in the side of the "castle" a short straw. The length of straw barely poked out of the hole.

This he set on the bar for me to pick up, without (thank goodness) any fanfare.

So I reached for it tentatively. I could only hold it for a few seconds before grabbing the napkin to wrap around the clay glass in a futile attempt to insulate my hand from the intense cold. (Ah, there's a reason why blended drinks like margaritas are served in stemmed glasses, and it's not entirely ornamental!) And to drink, I had to essentially put my lips up against the side, to practically kiss the castle.

It was at this point that I noticed a pair of women seated in the corner looking at me. One of them had to completely twist around to see me. And it became clear quickly that they weren't so much admiring my masculinity but being amused by my abject lack of it.

After that I held the drink low, bending over to sip. Soon thereafter we were shown to the teppan bar where our dinner was prepared in front of us.

I set the "castle" behind the drink menu, until my friends took that away.

Eventually I gave up and ordered a beer—a large beer—and I displayed the bottle on the table with what little pride I could muster.

The meal proceeded fine from there until the waitress asked if I wanted it wrapped up. I said, "No, that's okay." But she insisted. "Come on, you have to take the pagoda," she said as she snapped it up and scurried away.

Hey, it's a castle, I thought, not bothering to actually say anything audibly.

Minutes later the waitress returned with a bag containing the "souvenir," which my compatriots demanded I not leave behind. It could be used as a planter, it was suggested. (Uh oh. Effect of beer being negated by that.)

We then headed over to see a burlesque show (yes! dancers in lingerie... with as much re-masculation as is possible from seeing them with one's girlfriend and one's sister). And rest assured, I didn't even look at the drink menu there.

As for the "castle": I left it in my sister's car when the evening was done. Somehow it slipped my mind.

Happy Birthday to her!