The Japanese Festival I Never Saw

I love Skype, if only because my brother can still drunk-dial me from the U.S., where it’s apparently nighttime, even it’s 5 a.m. in Japan and I’m fast asleep in my futon.

I answered Skype in the customary fashion.

“Yo, nigga,” I said.

“My nigga!” he said.  This is how white people talk when black people aren’t around.  “What’s happening?”

“I’m dreaming I’m still asleep is what’s happening,” I said.  “I gotta go to some festival with this Japanese chick today.” Continue reading “The Japanese Festival I Never Saw”