This was our last stop, a loud, busy club called Gaspanic. Boykin and Brito fell in love with it, consumed many beers, met pretty girls to dance with and kept putting off our return to Camp Zama. At ten til midnight I got mad and walked out. Crawford apparently didn't want me to go home alone so he followed and we left them in the bar. The subway stopped running three stops before Camp Zama so we had to take a cab. It was one thirty when we arrived and two before I went to sleep. I climbed Mt Fuji on an hour and a half of sleep! It was worth it though because we wouldn't have had time the next night to go to Tokyo.

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