Video of a pet monkey that works at a bar in Utsunomiya City, Tochigi Prefecture:

Apparently he learned how to bring things to customers through observation. I’m guessing that’s also how he learned to dance.

Update: The address for this izakaya can be found here. Japanese bloggers also mention it here and here.

Over at Digg, chromerium posted the following amusing story in the comments section:

After a hard day’s work down the izakaya, he heads home on the train, and weathers more stares and the inevitable pointing.

Yes, he knows he’s different, and yes he knows its a bit strange to see him wearing cloths, using tickets, etc. He pulls out his keitai, dials the wife, lets he know he’s on the way home. Even more stares. The locals don’t like the weird sounds that he makes .. but his wife speaks his language, and he feels more comfortable talking to her with it.

Fifteen minutes later, he arrives, and ambles through the station to the exit. He gives the station master a polite nod on the way past, which is acknowledged. Suzuki-san is a good man, they’ve been to a few ball games together with friends, and he was always polite, never stared or laughed. Always considered that man a good friend. The barrier beeps and lets him through as he waves his pass at the sensor, and he walks out to his bicycle.

Most people who are used to the daily sight of him getting onto a bicycle to ride home are unsurprised when he does so, though there is the usual gasps of surprise as usual from random people who have stopped to see the traveling monkey show. Its just one of those things you have to deal with daily, when you’re different to everyone else.

He speeds home, dodging some tourists drunkenly staggering along the footpath. He yells at them to watch where they’re going, but they don’t understand – they’re german or dutch or something, and he zooms down some back streets to his small house.

He’s owned the building for several years, though not in his own name as there are still some prejudices against non-japanese owning homes in Japan, and getting a loan without a guarantor are next to impossible. He’s managed to convince his boss to buy this in his name. Japanese people are generally honourable though, so he doesn’t worry that the man will evict him from his own home.

Entering the home, he steps out of his sandles, hangs up his coat and hat, walks inside, and hugs his wife, saying a few words. He eats a sparse, cold dinner, eyeing the television, but the program is disappointing. Some stupid game show.

He sits down at the computer, opens up his bookmark to digg.com and posts a few comments to some of the stories. Being a Gaijin in Japan is a unique experience, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of it. Working in the Izakaya has been great fun – his japanese has been improving a great deal.

Mind you, that damn monkey is after his job, that’s for sure.