The long awaited chapter 8!
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Chapter 8: Yuri and the Fun Police
It turns out that I'd come in between episodes, so I got to see the credits and an opening. The room was smaller and contained about twenty people, about six of which were girls. As things got underway, I quickly found out why all ages were admitted to this room. I never knew that something like lesbian porn could be so boring. It actually had a totally normal anime plot. There were tentacle monsters, but not of the raping kind.
It was an earlier episode of a show about a schoolgirl constantly being attacked by tentacle-wielding aliens. Lucky for her, she's got some crazy catgirl chick to protect her from all that shit. The catgirl also needs her for some unknown reason to help pilot a giant robot. Schoolgirl chick freaks out, but she is THE CHOSEN ONE and must help with the mech or feel responsible when everyone in the world dies from her inaction. She cried a lot in the episode, but since her parents turned into monsters and got killed in front of her eyes, it's pretty understandable.
So how is this lesbian porno? When they're inside the giant robots, they're naked. Somehow, they pilot giant robots by sitting naked in a pod of goo with wires attached everywhere on their bodies. The whole episode had literally less than five seconds of nudity and everything else was lame robot/alien battles. Maybe the girls would have started to get it on if I waited another 45 episodes, but somehow I don't think it'd be worth it. When the credits started, I ran. I ran so far away. Granted, I wasn't looking to watch anything erotic with a bunch of dudes, but I was at least hoping for something interesting. If anyone knows what series I'm describing, feel free to tell me so I can continue to not watch it. Until then, I'll refer to it internally as "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots."
I made a stop at the men's room to take a whiz. This normally wouldn't be worth writing about, but even that lacked freedom from weird shit. Unlike during the day, most of the toilets were completely stopped up with puke and feces. Apparently, it's okay to destroy hotel bathrooms if you're drunk. I did my business, but not before a man in a schoolgirl dress came in, daintily lifted up the front of his skirt, and began to use the urinal. I didn't see him from the front, so I'm assuming it was a man. Still, there's the offbeat possibility that it may have been a girl. Either way, watching a person lift up the front of a skirt and utilize a urinal is a friggin' bizarre sight.
Picking up a natural late night buzz, I returned to aimlessly wandering around. A monitor on the wall showed a loop of the impending hurricane headed right for us, dampening the mood a bit. On top of that, everything had started to close. The rave was finished and people had lain down against the wall in every visible corner like bums in a subway. Drunkards were still dashing about everywhere making mischief, so I decided to keep walking around and see what I might stumble into. Overheard bits indicated that floor seven was "the party floor." Up I went.
Floor seven had a few people sitting around the elevator entrance plaza. It was not particularly exciting. I elected to start at the top floor and work my way down. Unfortunately, the top floor required a keycard and seemed to be only for penthouse folks. I later found out that there was free food up there and anyone with a hotel room key could have gotten in. But, since I wouldn't know until the following morning, I had to begin at floor twelve.
Walking around the hall found people sleeping randomly on the floor. Many doors were propped open with party noises coming from inside, but poking in for "Hay guys, what is goin' on in this party?" did not seem prudent. I took a stop at a balcony to watch over the con from above. Hotel security was kicking people out of the bottom-floor buffet area for unknown reasons. Soon, they'd ascended to my floor.
The security dudes slowly circled each level, asking collapsed bodies in the hallways to leave and knocking on each propped-open door to request that it be shut. One by one, the parties fell prey and closed their doors to newcomers. Because I'm a wuss and generally respond to authority, I didn't feel like being asked to leave, so I decided to keep just ahead of their trek slowly downward. They'd likely ruin my observations of varying oddities, so I'd have to get to them first.
Aside from choosing a random perch and watching the fun police cover the place in surreally militaristic fashion, going from floor to floor proved uninteresting. Drunk teenagers cease to provide amusement for anyone but themselves after a while. I decided to seek entertainment on the hotel's only rides: the elevators.
Chapter 8: Yuri and the Fun Police
It turns out that I'd come in between episodes, so I got to see the credits and an opening. The room was smaller and contained about twenty people, about six of which were girls. As things got underway, I quickly found out why all ages were admitted to this room. I never knew that something like lesbian porn could be so boring. It actually had a totally normal anime plot. There were tentacle monsters, but not of the raping kind.
It was an earlier episode of a show about a schoolgirl constantly being attacked by tentacle-wielding aliens. Lucky for her, she's got some crazy catgirl chick to protect her from all that shit. The catgirl also needs her for some unknown reason to help pilot a giant robot. Schoolgirl chick freaks out, but she is THE CHOSEN ONE and must help with the mech or feel responsible when everyone in the world dies from her inaction. She cried a lot in the episode, but since her parents turned into monsters and got killed in front of her eyes, it's pretty understandable.
So how is this lesbian porno? When they're inside the giant robots, they're naked. Somehow, they pilot giant robots by sitting naked in a pod of goo with wires attached everywhere on their bodies. The whole episode had literally less than five seconds of nudity and everything else was lame robot/alien battles. Maybe the girls would have started to get it on if I waited another 45 episodes, but somehow I don't think it'd be worth it. When the credits started, I ran. I ran so far away. Granted, I wasn't looking to watch anything erotic with a bunch of dudes, but I was at least hoping for something interesting. If anyone knows what series I'm describing, feel free to tell me so I can continue to not watch it. Until then, I'll refer to it internally as "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots."
I made a stop at the men's room to take a whiz. This normally wouldn't be worth writing about, but even that lacked freedom from weird shit. Unlike during the day, most of the toilets were completely stopped up with puke and feces. Apparently, it's okay to destroy hotel bathrooms if you're drunk. I did my business, but not before a man in a schoolgirl dress came in, daintily lifted up the front of his skirt, and began to use the urinal. I didn't see him from the front, so I'm assuming it was a man. Still, there's the offbeat possibility that it may have been a girl. Either way, watching a person lift up the front of a skirt and utilize a urinal is a friggin' bizarre sight.
Picking up a natural late night buzz, I returned to aimlessly wandering around. A monitor on the wall showed a loop of the impending hurricane headed right for us, dampening the mood a bit. On top of that, everything had started to close. The rave was finished and people had lain down against the wall in every visible corner like bums in a subway. Drunkards were still dashing about everywhere making mischief, so I decided to keep walking around and see what I might stumble into. Overheard bits indicated that floor seven was "the party floor." Up I went.
Floor seven had a few people sitting around the elevator entrance plaza. It was not particularly exciting. I elected to start at the top floor and work my way down. Unfortunately, the top floor required a keycard and seemed to be only for penthouse folks. I later found out that there was free food up there and anyone with a hotel room key could have gotten in. But, since I wouldn't know until the following morning, I had to begin at floor twelve.
Walking around the hall found people sleeping randomly on the floor. Many doors were propped open with party noises coming from inside, but poking in for "Hay guys, what is goin' on in this party?" did not seem prudent. I took a stop at a balcony to watch over the con from above. Hotel security was kicking people out of the bottom-floor buffet area for unknown reasons. Soon, they'd ascended to my floor.
The security dudes slowly circled each level, asking collapsed bodies in the hallways to leave and knocking on each propped-open door to request that it be shut. One by one, the parties fell prey and closed their doors to newcomers. Because I'm a wuss and generally respond to authority, I didn't feel like being asked to leave, so I decided to keep just ahead of their trek slowly downward. They'd likely ruin my observations of varying oddities, so I'd have to get to them first.
Aside from choosing a random perch and watching the fun police cover the place in surreally militaristic fashion, going from floor to floor proved uninteresting. Drunk teenagers cease to provide amusement for anyone but themselves after a while. I decided to seek entertainment on the hotel's only rides: the elevators.