The easiest way for a male to get a Date-Rape drug in his drink is to find a club at Roppongi Crossing that fits this profile:
Sidewalk: Find some smiling black guys in sharp suits promoting their nightclubs
Location: Follow one of these nice guys up or down some stairs or a tiny elevator to a Club, not a prime location.
Club name: usually has Gentlemen or Classy in the name
Dﾃｩcor: small, dark, red, cramped room, couch seating along the walls, no windows, no exit.
Atmosphere: often red, dark, music thumping, mirrors, strobes.
Hostesses: tired, half-dressed Eastern European, Russian, and African girls. No visas, no hope.
Staff: African waiters, Nigerian, Ethiopian, Middle Eastern. More staff than customers
Drinks: free for you, expensive for girls. Watch the wine and champagne!
No Japanese staff, no Japanese customers.
OK, you're found one of the several clubs that fit the profile. Here's how it works:
Go with only one or two friends so you can easily be distracted and separated. Sit along the wall, side-by-side with space between you, and order a Tequila. Ask for a girl to join you (I asked for Princess, from Ethiopia). Order her a drink, and when hers comes, you'll get a free shot of a strange blue drink, too. Offer your girl the free shot. She won't accept it, she'll push it back to you. That's it, now you know you're got the drink with the date-rape drug in it.
Drink it up.
Order another drink. Chat with Princess, who hopes you make it through the night.
Order another drink. (Now skip to the last line of this article.)
Now you're drugged., and good.
More girls will join you, but you don'tknow it.
They'll want wine, champagne, and private dances. You say yes to it all. You don't know what's happening.
They dance for you, your eyes glaze over, and you're gone.
You're in heaven where girls are naked and love to talk about your favorite vintage automobiles.
You smile, you babble, it's 1:00 am and the manager has had enough of you.
He charges your credit card whatever he feels.
The bottles are $200 a piece. The dances are $70 each and last 3 minutes. You're in the private dance booth for 45 minutes.
You manage to write something on the American Express receipt but it's illegible, but it doesn't matter in Japan.
You get no receipt.
You stumble down the steps or the tiny elevator.
A staff member will find you a taxi. They fish for your hotel room key and send you home. Or some little black toady walks you to your hotel. Not good to have drugged patrons sprawling about the premises.
You wake up the next morning feeling horrible and not remembering a thing. Until your friend who didn't trust the little blue drink (Rohypnol) from whom you got separated, tells you all about the night. You're lucky you're alive and have your wallet. Though $4,500 is sucked from your credit card.
There is nothing you can do about it: sex slaves, drugged drinks, and credit card abuse fall in the gray-zone of Japan. No recourse.
I got the free blue shot of date-rape drug because I ordered a Tequila first, and it's difficult to dilute one shot with another shot. My friend got his drugs right in his gin-and-tonics.
The profile and practice fit many Shinjuku clubs, too.
Enjoy.
Sidewalk: Find some smiling black guys in sharp suits promoting their nightclubs
Location: Follow one of these nice guys up or down some stairs or a tiny elevator to a Club, not a prime location.
Club name: usually has Gentlemen or Classy in the name
Dﾃｩcor: small, dark, red, cramped room, couch seating along the walls, no windows, no exit.
Atmosphere: often red, dark, music thumping, mirrors, strobes.
Hostesses: tired, half-dressed Eastern European, Russian, and African girls. No visas, no hope.
Staff: African waiters, Nigerian, Ethiopian, Middle Eastern. More staff than customers
Drinks: free for you, expensive for girls. Watch the wine and champagne!
No Japanese staff, no Japanese customers.
OK, you're found one of the several clubs that fit the profile. Here's how it works:
Go with only one or two friends so you can easily be distracted and separated. Sit along the wall, side-by-side with space between you, and order a Tequila. Ask for a girl to join you (I asked for Princess, from Ethiopia). Order her a drink, and when hers comes, you'll get a free shot of a strange blue drink, too. Offer your girl the free shot. She won't accept it, she'll push it back to you. That's it, now you know you're got the drink with the date-rape drug in it.
Drink it up.
Order another drink. Chat with Princess, who hopes you make it through the night.
Order another drink. (Now skip to the last line of this article.)
Now you're drugged., and good.
More girls will join you, but you don'tknow it.
They'll want wine, champagne, and private dances. You say yes to it all. You don't know what's happening.
They dance for you, your eyes glaze over, and you're gone.
You're in heaven where girls are naked and love to talk about your favorite vintage automobiles.
You smile, you babble, it's 1:00 am and the manager has had enough of you.
He charges your credit card whatever he feels.
The bottles are $200 a piece. The dances are $70 each and last 3 minutes. You're in the private dance booth for 45 minutes.
You manage to write something on the American Express receipt but it's illegible, but it doesn't matter in Japan.
You get no receipt.
You stumble down the steps or the tiny elevator.
A staff member will find you a taxi. They fish for your hotel room key and send you home. Or some little black toady walks you to your hotel. Not good to have drugged patrons sprawling about the premises.
You wake up the next morning feeling horrible and not remembering a thing. Until your friend who didn't trust the little blue drink (Rohypnol) from whom you got separated, tells you all about the night. You're lucky you're alive and have your wallet. Though $4,500 is sucked from your credit card.
There is nothing you can do about it: sex slaves, drugged drinks, and credit card abuse fall in the gray-zone of Japan. No recourse.
I got the free blue shot of date-rape drug because I ordered a Tequila first, and it's difficult to dilute one shot with another shot. My friend got his drugs right in his gin-and-tonics.
The profile and practice fit many Shinjuku clubs, too.
Enjoy.
