Meet Carl X, a quiet, unassuming Englishman who, for 10 years, has been working the graveyard shift in the bowels of Roppongi and beyond. And -- as far as I can see -- has survived unscathed. Remember Gold in Shibaura, Tokyo's most famous and decadent club in the late '80s? Carl worked there. Remember the original Gas Panic, known to its habitues (including myself) as the "Red Door"? Carl worked there for seven years. And Gas Panic 9.9 (nine to nine). And Geronimos. And the list goes on . . .

I have seen gaijin bartenders come and go -- most of them shell-shocked after six months in the ghetto. Yet, after a decade under fire, here Carl sits -- calm, composed, tanned and healthy -- like a poster boy for the good life. Luck is what liberated him from his native Britain. As a final-year art and film major, he was scouted off the street in Chelsea to model for the Paris collections, which launched his career on the international circuit. But quiet determination is what enabled him to also finish his degree.

"I met some great people when I first came to Tokyo. It was wild," says Carl, with a smile straight off a GQ cover. "So, as soon as I finished my degree, I took every modeling contract that would bring me back until I could figure out a way to stay."