Being a man is hard, but at least we have capsule hotels. Capsule hotels are leisure lands for men away from home, so diverting you forget you came here to sleep. Hirosaki’s incarnation has massage chairs, a jacuzzi, a sauna, a manga library, a bar and lounge chairs in front of large screen TVs.
We will sleep in the same capsule-loaded room, yet everybody seems distant, lost in their private leisure: soaking in the bath, sipping beer at the bar or slouching in pyjamas in front of the TV.
My capsule, a bottom bunk with a curtain for privacy, is 7 foot long and two foot high. A TV is fixed into the far corner; next to the pillow is a control panel for the lights, TV, radio and alarm clock. The alarm clock sadly won’t be needed: the rattle of bowling pins being knocked down in the alley downstairs and the lack of fresh air will keep me awake. Oh well, some things are too good to be true.
Otoko wa tsurai yo.