I'm in Osaka, Japan. I'm here with family to visit my brother, meet my new sister-in-law, attend their wedding, and explore this faraway country that my baby brother calls home. Said brother says he can help us out with that. His plan is to take us to the top of Abeno Harukas: tallest tower in the region, second tallest tower in Japan.
And then push us off.
It's a joke. Jeez.
By day it's green. By night it's shrouded in gothic ninja mystery.
We eat at a sushi restaurant somewhere in the building. Don't have a view of the city but we have a nice view of each other and all the food we shovel into our faces until the restaurant cuts us off. Apparently that's not uncommon here. No over-indulging yourself to the point where all the food and all the flavors and textures that have been so thoughtfully collected and prepared by so many people start to blend together and become unappreciated.
Over-satiated but still fully appreciative, we waddle to the elevator that will take us up to the observation deck. Some nights it's open, my brother says. Tonight it's not. We settle for the bargain view somewhere on the twenty-somethingth floor.
Still pretty, though.
A few days later when we all find the time, he takes us back. We pay some money and climb into a special elevator that zips us up to the 60th floor and busts our eardrums.
We step out onto the observation deck.
The sprawling metropolis that is Osaka reveals herself to us in all her glory.
It really is crazy spectacular all the things humans can make and do to completely alter the environment.
On the west end there's a spot where you can stand on a thick piece of glass and scare yourself.
Or scare your mother.
But not scare your brother because he's been here before and he's used to it. Still, he tests out the glass floor by jumping on it a few times to make sure it will hold him.
Like with finely crafted cuisine, one can take in too much of a good view. Unless you can spot things you recognize, like the park where you hand fed a crazy-eyed pigeon a few hours before, the tiny little buildings start to blend together.
In situations of over-saturation like this I like to take a break and step outside for some fresh air. There is no stepping outside up here, of course. I can feel the building swaying. I'm pretty sure if there was an outside up here to step to, I would blow away.
So I go to the restroom instead.
I don't even have to go, really, but I make myself anyway because, hot damn, I don't want to miss out on the opportunity to eliminate in a room like this. Never before have I wished so badly for the need to poop...
Though I can understand the logic to the design, I lament the individual stalls not having a view.
I take a selfie in the mirror so I can remember this place forever. This one room in Osaka where my little brother has never been.
And likely will never see.
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