Also known as "Electric Town," Akihabara is known for its host of tiny electronics stores, whose salespeople stand outside with microphones and huckster ¥500 memory sticks, DVD players, and foldable computer keyboards to passerby. Many Japanese streets are lined with produce and snow cone stands, but not Akihabara's. Milk crates filled with thumb drives (and American fitness videos--Billy Blanks is big in Japan) are found here, attracting many foreigners looking for goods that would be more expensive in their home countries. But among the cramped alleys of thrifty tourists and bulk computer accessories lives a subculture all its own.
Akihabara attracts a lot of otaku--people who are obsessed with anime, manga, and video games. It's something of a pejorative here in Japan, as the connotation is often "awkward," "geeky," even "loser." Anyways, I had the pleasure of visiting a "maid café," which are real otaku hotspots. And it was one of the creepiest things I've done in a long time.
Basically, chicks like these stand in the streets and lure people in. Our sick curiosity got the better of us, and next thing we knew, we were walking up the building's stairs and into a small room, and were greeted by Japanese girls dressed as French maids chiming, "Okaerinasaimase!" ("Welcome home!") in unison. After a brief wait (the place was small and packed), we were seated, and each of us was addressed as either "Master" or "Mistress."
The entire place had a very strange vibe to it. Classical music played overhead, while a big screen played some anime about talking bunnies nearby. Colorful flowers sat in the middle of the tables, and pictures of anime characters adorned the white walls, while various plants and stuffed animals decorated the perimeter. It was weird--like you're in middle school again, at your best friend's house, and sitting in his kid sister's bedroom. A girly, unfamiliar place where you know you don't belong.
Looking at the menu, I thought the options (which included carbonara and Caesar calad) sounded delicious, if not overpriced; my ginger ale alone cost $5. But, at maid cafés, you pay for the maids' company. If you go by yourself, they sit with you and talk to you about your day, not unlike Japanese hostess bars.
The maids themselves shuffled around, serving customers' drinks. (And if you get tea or coffee, they actually crouch next to your table, open the cream and sugar, and stir it in for you. Yeah... the silence as you sit and watch them stir isn't uncomfortable or anything.) In addition to the stock maid uniforms, they wear face glitter and puffy, heart-shaped stickers on the corners of their eyes. Lilo & Stitch plush keychains dangle from their belts. Neon bands pull their hair into pigtails. And they didn't "speak" as much as they did "squeak." Their voices were high-pitched, saccharine, affected. Everything about them was so subservient and exaggeratedly girly. They were anime characters come to life, all to meet the desires of their otaku clientele base. Creepy.
Interestingly, most of the people in the café were all "normal," and pretty diverse. Men, women, old, young... maybe the maid-hungry dweebs only come out at night?
Unfortunately, photos were not allowed. However, for 40 bucks, we could've had a "memorial DVD" made of us. I can only imagine what the maids would have done in such a situation. But I think the real highlight of the entire experience was watching the elderly café manager sit in the corner, stroking her furred, robotic cat.
We were in Electric Town, after all.
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