Ringing in New Year in marathon pachinko fest

The conventional way to spend a New Year's Eve in Japan might involve viewing the "Kohaku Uta Gassen" (Red and White Song Contest) on NHK TV, eating special "toshikoshi soba" noodles or "mochi" (glutinous rice cakes), or going a temple or shrine to perform "hatsumode" (the first visit of the year).

Or, if you're looking for something really different, you could play nonstop pachinko until you flop from fatigue.

Jitsuwa Bunka Taboo (March) reports on a marathon pachinko extravaganza in Mie Prefecture, held on New Year's Eve, that lasted for 38 hours.

The reporter was Akemi Kinjo, a 26-year old aspiring journalist from Okinawa.

As the pachinko parlor was scheduled to open for business at 7 a.m. on Dec 31, Kinjo and a carload of male friends departed Tokyo for Mie at 11 p.m. the night before. The unnamed pachinko parlor had set its closing time for 9 p.m. on New Year's Day.

It was located in Yokkaichi, an industrial city of smoking factory chimneys and plenty of pachinko parlors. Kinjo arrived at 4 a.m. and the driver pulled into an all-night family restaurant to bide their time until the shop -- a sizable establishment claiming to offer 750 pachinko slot machines -- opened.

Arriving 15 minutes before opening, at least 100 customers were already lined up outside, virtually all of them appearing to be males in their 20s through 40s. Kinjo estimated there might be one female for every 30 males.

To avoid a stampede, the shop admitted customers in groups of 15 each, waiting for them to get settled before the next 15 were admitted.

As Kinjo was younger and more attractive than the somewhat weather-beaten gals who patronized the parlor, she remarked that she felt like almost every eye in the place was on her. "But there was nothing I could do about that," she shrugged.

Nearly 17 hours of uninterrupted pachinko -- except for toilet breaks -- later, the countdown began for the stroke of midnight. Five…four…three…two…one -- but nobody exclaimed "Happy New Year!" The only sound that could be heard was the rattle of ball bearings pinging off nails in the machines.

Kinjo and her companions from Tokyo decided that since they were close to the Ise Grand Shrine, one of Shinto's three holiest sites, it might be a good idea to drive over for "hatsumode." But the traffic on the road was so congested they could not leave the the expressway at the designated exit and instead had to make a long detour.

"Since there was a huge mob lined up to throw money into the collection box, I decided to be clever instead and go to get the free sake that was being dispensed near the exit," she relates. "But the sake turned out not to be very tasty. Then I headed for Ise udon noodles which were 'mazui' (awful)." So despite the two-hour drive in heavy traffic, she was unable to rid herself of the "impurities" imparted by marathon pachinko playing.

That did not keep her from going back to the parlor in Yokkachi for another day of nonstop gaming.

Ninety minutes later, music that struck Kinjo as very alien to a pachinko parlor suddenly began emanating from the loudspeakers, signalling to the patrons that the parlor would be closing in 30 minutes.

As customers were tapped on the shoulders by an employee, they headed for the window to exchange their loot for prizes (or cash). With the mournful notes of "Amazing Grace" wafting from the speakers, they slowly filed out of the shop.

"And that," writes Kinjo, "is how I spent my New Year's."

Perhaps the biggest disappointment was a 35-year old "sempai" (senior) from Chiba (a bachelor she notes) who managed to rake in more than 300,000 yen.

"His insufferable gloating all the way back to Tokyo still smarts as I write this," she fumed.

Still, for aficionados of the game, there's nothing better than a session at the pachinko slots. But next year, Kinjo concludes, "I'll come back to Mie on my own."

© Japan Today