Smoking Mickey

Shinjuku, dead-centre Tokyo, Guinness World Record holder: World’s Busiest Station. Politest chaos on Earth.

Two worlds: West of the station, pristine business blocks stretching up and comparing sizes; east, cramped alleys of bars and karaoke selling themselves to the night.

You’re neither a workaholic nor a party addict; you grew up with a Master System. Yours is the lost space in between east and west, secretly visited by both the school-skipping punks and the straight-suited finks.

In those deep pedestrian streets lit by signs and vending machines is a temple. The gate is illuminated in square white panels with big blue letters: S-E-G-A. It’s the Master System box in the top of your childhood wardrobe. It looks you in your adult eyes, like a Disneyland Mickey on a smoke break, and invites you inside.

Are 90s videogames a place? This is Club Sega.