When we entered the Stardust club we were warmly greeted by the bartender and all the regulars. Then, Koko proceeded to knock over a tray of flyers. Everyone looked away as to not embarrass the poor tourist and we went and sat down. The club was half full of patrons and half full of junk.  A piano, empty guitar cases, an endless amount of CDs and winter coats. They played jazz, and when I mentioned that the bar reminded me of New Orleans the drunk in the corner (also possibly the owner) put some Nola swing on. I don’t know if he heard me but he had good taste. Koko drank Asahi and I had a sake.