murakami, haruki - Norwegian wood

slept with only one, he said, "Oh, we can fix that, easy. Come with me
next time. I'll get you one easy as that."
I didn't believe him, but he turned out to be right. It was easy. Almost
too easy, with all the excitement of flat beer. We went to some kind of
bar in Shibuya or Shinjuku (he had his favourites), found a pair of
girls (the world was full of pairs of girls), talked to them, drank, went
to a hotel, and had sex with them. He was a great talker. Not that he
had anything great to say, but girls would get carried away listening to
him, they'd drink too much and end up sleeping with him. I guess they
enjoyed being with somebody so nice and handsome and clever. And
the most amazing thing was that, just because I was with him, I
seemed to become equally fascinating to them. Nagasawa would urge
me to talk, and girls would respond to me with the same smiles of
admiration they offered him. He worked his magic, a real talent he had
that impressed me every time. Compared with Nagasawa, Kizuki's
conversational gifts were child's play. This was a completely different
level of accomplishment. As much as I found myself caught up in
Nagasawa's power, though, I still missed Kizuki. I felt a new
admiration for his sincerity. Whatever talents he had he would share
with Naoko and me alone, while Nagasawa was bent on disseminating
his considerable gifts to all around him. Not that he was dying to sleep
with the girls he found: it was just a game to him.
I was not too crazy about sleeping with girls I didn't know. It was an
easy way to take care of my sex drive of course, and I did enjoy all the
holding and touching, but I hated the morning after. I'd wake up and
find this strange girl sleeping next to me, and the room would reek of
alcohol, and the bed and the lighting and the curtains had that special
"love hotel" garishness, and my head would be in a hungover fog.
Then the girl would wake up and start groping around for her knickers
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