Recently, and this may come as a shock to you, I've had some internet trouble. In order to rectify said trouble I had to purchase a new modem at the local DeoDeo. After the clerk, a nice, if slightly disinterested woman rang up my purchase she asked if I had a DeoDeo card. I said no, considered the issue briefly and thought that a point card would be just the thing. After all, I shopped at the store at a not infrequent basis; it was my go to place for lightbulbs and electric carpets.
This request for a card was apparently the conversational opener she was looking for. Her eyes lit up and she annouced, "I love you!" Slightly confused, I followed her over to the side where she and her coworker alternated complimenting me on various things while I filled in the paperwork. After I wrote my name she switched from "I love you!" to "I love Evan!" About halfway through, I began to think that the paperwork was a little long for a point card application. It was at that point that I was asked, "Visa かMasterdcardがほしいですか？"
I balked, wondering what I had gotten myself into, briefly, I tried to think of ways in which I could extricate myself from this situation. Then, the shock wore off and I remembered that I had been considering getting a credit card anyway and had two cards in America, moreover it appeared that DeoDeo had a good rewards program.
I forged ahead.
And they forged behind me on my way out the store. "You ride a bicycle? That's so cool!" "I love Evan!" "Thank you!" "You've got your lunch in the bike basket too?" "Thank you!"
A week or so later, I popped in to clear up a problem I had mailing the form and, of course, to buy some lightbulbs. You can never have too many lightbulbs. The clerk remembered me from before, helped me pick out my bulbs, took care of my paperwork and announced that I was looking great today. She also told me that apparently they were so happy I signed up for a card everyone at the store went out drinking that night. Then she declared herself my "DeoDeo Friend" and pledged to help me personally when I came to the store from there on out.
Some days later, I recieved a letter from the company. Not sure what it said, I took it to work and during a down time I asked for help from one of the Japanese staff. She told me that I had been declined. No reason was given. Various reasons were speculated upon. I'm not Japanese. I've been in Japan under a year. I'm not Japanese. Maybe it's a high-level card? But, she also pointed out, and I'd have to admit that she's correct, I am, in fact, not Japanese.
Today, I returned to the DeoDeo in search of a power strip. Apparently, and this was news to me, you can have too many lightbulbs. It was with some trepadation that I approached the store. Would they ask about the card? Do I say I was rejected? And so forth. I carried the rejection letter with me. Just in case. Seemed like the easiest way to explain.
As I entered some of the store the clerks recognized me, shouted "Evan!" and ran towards me, my "DeoDeo friend" knocking over a display on her way. When we got close enough the all looked sad and commented on the card. "You couldn't get the card!" "How could this have happened?" "Why?" I said, I didn't know and they sighed as if to say, "That darn credit institution." Then, they told me how handsome I was, helped me find a surge protector and at the register pointed out that I could get a regular, non-credit, point card, "darling." I filled in the form for the point card. "Isn't it awesome that he can write in Japanese?" Left the store. "You walked? Great!" And walked home, baffled.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
The gap between the availability of and the general implementation of new technology continues to amaze me
Color photos of World War One.
The idea that the techonology to take color pictures has been available since 1904 but that it took fifty some years for it to become practical to use astounds me. One can only imagine what things that are impractical novelties today will be commonplace within fifty years.
Moreover, these photos are an amazing window into a world that I previously thought existed only in monochrome.
On an unrelated note, I've been saving up stories for the past month while I've been sorting out computer trouble, so you can expect rather frequent updates in the next two weeks or so.
The idea that the techonology to take color pictures has been available since 1904 but that it took fifty some years for it to become practical to use astounds me. One can only imagine what things that are impractical novelties today will be commonplace within fifty years.
Moreover, these photos are an amazing window into a world that I previously thought existed only in monochrome.
On an unrelated note, I've been saving up stories for the past month while I've been sorting out computer trouble, so you can expect rather frequent updates in the next two weeks or so.
Camping
A couple weeks ago (yeah, I know, I'm really on top of things aren't I?) I went camping at Ryuo-zan, a mountin park in Onoda. Here is an excellent panorama from the top.Tomohiro, the bar master at Happy Talk (far right), had invited me; it was a gathering of bar masters, staff and friends of bars. He's the president of the Ube Bartender's Association, but oddly enough most of the bars represented at the barbecue were non-members. There were about fifteen people there. Food and drinks were handled in a style that I understand is typical for Japanese barbecues: money (¥5000) was collected and then it was all you can eat, all you can drink. The food was delicious, grilled crab, yakiniku (beef), nabe, sazae and onigiri. The setting was rugged, we could barely hear the car stereo because we set up camp a whole five feet from the curb.
Aft photographing the neighboring playground, I spent some time socializing and enjoying the beverages expertly prepared by the attendant bartenders. The master of Miruku (far left) came with fifteen bottles of liquors and liquers. Soon though, I grew tired, having work the next day I chose to collapse into a tent rather early.
I woke up at five. Freezing cold. Outside, I found the barbecue still going with a pot of nabe on top and five or six people sitting around drinking beer and chatting. I borrowed and extra coat and attempted to warm up. Soon the sun came up and we filled an empty beer can with sake and put it on the barbecue to have some warm sake for a sunrise drink. I drank and went back to sleep until I woke up at nine. Boiling hot.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
They're making me turn Japanese. Seriously.
So, the other day I went out for dinner with my friends Ryousuke and Kensuke. They live in Tokyo now. Fuckers. Anyway, we were meeting some girls they knew so the guys were discussing the best way to introduce me.
First, Ryousuke said to me, "Ok, when we get to the restaurant, you can't speak any Japanese, ok?"
But, before I could respond Kensuke jumps in, "I've got a better idea! You're Japanese!"
We decide that my name would be Beku Eba, that I came from Mine (a small city just north of Ube) and that my father was a vegetable shop owner. They taught me some old fashioned Japanese, language that Japanese people know but don't use. That way, I'd sound more Japanese - with the added bonus of sounding more ridiculous.
We got to the restaurant and Ryousuke introduced me as planned, adding, "When I first met him I thought he was half! But he's really Japanese!" The girls grilled me for a while, trying to find a chink in my argument.
"What's your father's name?"
"Kazuo"
"Your mother's?"
"Hideko"
"Where do you live?"
"Ube"
"Why not in Mine with your parents?"
"There's no work there, I've got a part time job at a supermarket and I'm looking for a company job now. That's why I'm wearing a suit." (in reality I had just come from work)
Ryousuke and Kensuke backed me up, "He just has a funny accent cause he's from the country. They talk like that there. Really. I mean I thought he was half when I met him but . . ."
Oddly enough they bought it. After about fifteen minutes we told them I wasn't Japanese and we all had a good laugh.
The food was good too. Korean restaurant.
First, Ryousuke said to me, "Ok, when we get to the restaurant, you can't speak any Japanese, ok?"
But, before I could respond Kensuke jumps in, "I've got a better idea! You're Japanese!"
We decide that my name would be Beku Eba, that I came from Mine (a small city just north of Ube) and that my father was a vegetable shop owner. They taught me some old fashioned Japanese, language that Japanese people know but don't use. That way, I'd sound more Japanese - with the added bonus of sounding more ridiculous.
We got to the restaurant and Ryousuke introduced me as planned, adding, "When I first met him I thought he was half! But he's really Japanese!" The girls grilled me for a while, trying to find a chink in my argument.
"What's your father's name?"
"Kazuo"
"Your mother's?"
"Hideko"
"Where do you live?"
"Ube"
"Why not in Mine with your parents?"
"There's no work there, I've got a part time job at a supermarket and I'm looking for a company job now. That's why I'm wearing a suit." (in reality I had just come from work)
Ryousuke and Kensuke backed me up, "He just has a funny accent cause he's from the country. They talk like that there. Really. I mean I thought he was half when I met him but . . ."
Oddly enough they bought it. After about fifteen minutes we told them I wasn't Japanese and we all had a good laugh.
The food was good too. Korean restaurant.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Artistical
Of the escape variety.I've known for some time that Daisuke (not pictured) keeps handcuffs at Bigi. I was out for a nightcap after sushi the other night and deicded to play around with them a little. Borrowing a hairpin from my neighbor I worked out the mechanism, then I made a bet with Daisuke.
"If I can get out of these in under ten minutes, you credit me a drink, if not, I buy you one."
Daisuke is a gambling man (he has a slot machine in the bar) so he snapped up the offer without hesitation. He then locked up both of my hands. Tight. Painfully tight. With the keyholes facing inwards, it was more difficult than I expected. I quickly found myself in need of refreshment so I ordered an awamori mizuwari (cut with water), with a straw.
I was out of the cuffs in four minutes and out of the bar an hour later with a cheaper tab than I expected.
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