Hello.

A Japanese girl in a bunny suit corrected my English this evening. In one of the Universe’s neat moments of serendipity, we found ourselves walking side by side and exiting the train station together. She looked at me, and I looked back at her. In addition to wearing a bunny suit, she was missing her eyebrows. “Hi.” She said. “Hello.” “Nice to meet you.” She said. “Nice to meet you.” Pause. “Too.” She added, helping me along with my response. Right. I thought for a moment about explaining to her that the weighty intonation I put on you at the end of my response was enough to imply too or also or as well, whichever your preference may be. I also briefly thought about explaining to her that we hadn’t actually met yet, seeing as though no formal introduction or exchange of personal information had taken place. We had simply said hello to each other. Therefore her “nice to meet you” was premature and jumping a few steps ahead of the natural conversational flow. But this tedious explanation would fall on deaf ears, I supposed, not to mention make me a real dick. And it was nice to meet her. So I simply flashed my winning American smile and strolled off into the night, repeating to myself over and over so I wouldn’t forget the line in my head. A Japanese girl in a bunny suit corrected my English this evening. A Japanese girl in a bunny suit…

Because bitching is always funnier than being grateful.

1. First day of the work week. 2. Forced from sleep by typhoon-like rain and winds. At 5 in the morning. 3. Gale force winds splintering my umbrella into pieces only a block into my mile-long commute. 4. A set of 3 year-old twins screaming bloody terror and howling “Foreigner! Foreigner! Foreigner!” throughout the entire class. 5. An irritated pimple that looks like a dog bite. 6. An audible tear down the ass crack of my custom tailored Thai slacks. 7. Not enough wine at the end of a shitty day to get both my wife and myself drunk. You know, I make a concerted effort to remain optimistic and mine for the gold in most situations. But sometimes the Universe can be a real motherfucker.

Open Letter to Foreigners

Dear other foreigners living or traveling in Japan, I can’t help but notice a saddening trend that I feel compelled to address. Why is it that when we bump into each other on the train, in the grocery store or wait idly at opposing crosswalks you visibly and uncomfortably avert your eyes and refuse to respond to my presence? Explain yourself. I suppose I kinda get it. I mean honestly, I didn’t come to Japan to make more white friends either. But c’mon. Where’s the camaraderie? Is it too much to ask that we simply make eye contact, however fleeting? Maybe we even exchange a head nod, yeah? Can’t we telepathically acknowledge each others’ existence and say, Wasn’t it hard to leave our lives behind and come to this crazy upside down land, but damnit aren’t we already better people for it? Shouldn’t we welcome the brief reprieve from living inside our heads in a congested country where we can’t verbally express ourselves, and embrace the opportunity to cling to one another and excitedly ask, “Remember Chili’s? Remember Dane Cook? Remember the Alamo?” Shit. We’re all goofy looking white people with a lost twinkle in our eye. Let’s be secret friends. Affectionately, that other white guy P.S. This letter does not apply to Morgan, the affable American who bid me good morning at Mister Donut, nor does it apply to the somewhat creepy (in a good and humorous way) Canadian fellow who initiated conversation on the train. Thank you, gents. You make me feel at home.