It only seems right to start with the pocket that inspired my ideology.
I was living in Korea and planning a trip to Osaka, Japan when my friend Seb had told me of a building buried in the heart of the city that was filled with bars.
The Misono Building was a few stories high and maybe a hundred meters long. It was on a street that was pretty dim and dingy by Japan’s standards, and the ground floor housed a store or restaurant. It was due to be knocked down in a couple of months and I could kind of see why.
After mooching around the base of the building, I found a tired old elevator next to a sad looking fountain and I rode it to the second floor. The entire floor was sparsely lit by a mixture of old neon signs and the occasional ceiling lamp. Underfoot, the ground consisted of cobbled stone and tiles, which was odd considering it was a second floor. The surface was uneven and sloping, and I was starting to question if I was in the right place.
I followed the path to the right which led me past lots of bars that looked like they had long closed. Up ahead I could see a few squares of light protruding from open doors so I pushed on.
The first bar resembled something of an English pub with about 3 customers inside, the second was a regular izakaya style bar with retro games consoles. I walked around the remainder of the floor and a couple more bars were open, but none of them took my fancy so I headed back to the retro games bar.
All of these bars are about as big as your living room, and upon entering this one, a few people were confused. After a bit of back and forth on a translator, I learned that the bar was hired out for the next few hours but they welcomed me to come back then.
I took a chance on the English-style pub and I was met with an entry fee off 1000¥ for their ‘Last Dance’ event. I debated even going in, but I’d come this far so I might as well have a beer.
The room was clad in dark, heavy wood inlaid with deep red felt and a large chandelier that hung just above head height in the center of the room. It did have a certain English vibe to it. Running the length of the bar was a buffet table topped with all kinds of finger food that the bartender encouraged me to eat as I bought a beer for 500¥.
I felt quite out of place at this point. Despite the welcoming nature of the locals, they all clearly knew each other and were adorned in clothing that was far beyond my backpack and t-shirt.
Two girls in full anime-esque outfits watched on as a lady in a 40’s air force uniform span some CDs. A few more people were trickling in and the bar was maybe a third full with seven or eight people inside. I’d had my fun and seen the quirky little place so I’d decided to finish my beer and head out.
I’m not sure what kept me there, but I’m glad it did.
Over the next hour or so, the party got in full swing. People of all shapes, age and sizes packed out the bar, all with their own unique style. There was everything from a luchador to a 80’s punk rocker with a mohawk and no eyebrows. Everyone and anyone was welcome. Myself included.
I had noticed that the set list of DJs was all just locals of the pub when the luchador got on the decks and spun a genre I’m not sure I’ve heard before or since. Everyone got a 15 minute slot to spin, play or sing whatever they wanted. The whole crowd got involved with whatever was going on at any given moment. It was beautiful.
The bartender was giving me his cigarettes, the locals were chatting with me and I was still being encouraged to enjoy the buffet.
What I’d found was something that resembled a wake, but in the best way imaginable.
All the friends of the pub, past and present, had come together to enjoy its space together one last time. They ate and drank the night away as old friends in celebration of their time together.
This space had brought so many people together and was so deeply loved by everyone in attendance. I’d only been there for an evening, but I’d experienced years of connection. It broke my heart that this was the end of their pocket.
I left late in the evening to head home and leave the locals to their send-off. Part of me hopes they’re still there saying goodbye and partying the night away.
I haven’t been back to that area since, I’m not sure I ever will.
To the Royal Crown and its inhabitants, thank you for letting me into your space and making me a member of the family.
All I can leave you with is one of the DJs spinning one of my favorite ever tracks, Luv(sic.)pt3 by Nujabes, featuring Shing02.
Pockets 