Why is everything in Japan is so freaking small? I really don’t get it. Like, they say Japanese people are short, but they’re really not. Sure, there’s some grannies who could pass as Seven Dwarf number eight, but there’s also plenty of folks around my height, and I’m six foot. Although I do wear a lot of vertical stripes, so maybe that makes me look taller, I don’t know.
At any rate, I finally got a gentsuki, which is what we call a moped here in Japan. Continue reading “One Very Small Japanese Motorcycle”
I went to see my Japanese doctor last week, because I decided I had AIDS. This happens to me all the time, so it’s really no big deal. The problem is that I recently moved, so now going to talk to the man in the white coat means I have to ride the train for an hour. So inconvenient, really, all that medical stuff.
Aside from its distance from the hospital, I love my new place. The only thing is, it’s small. I mean like Wizard of Oz small. Continue reading “My Japanese AIDS Test”
So I finally got a Japanese driver’s license, which anyone who lives here for more than six months should really get. Well, okay, so I got a scooter license. Contrary to popular belief, this does not automatically make me gay. Astride my Japanese moped, I’m easily as macho as that construction worker from The Village People, plus I have more chest hair. Man, I love that guy. Continue reading “Getting a Japanese Scooter License”
I used to think there were three possible answers to any question: yes, no, and whatever’s not covered by yes and no. Like, when the waitress asks, Do you want another beer? That’s a yes. Isn’t it about time you thought about going home? That would be a No, not until I get that beer I’m waiting for. And, Would you at least please stop bothering the other customers? That would would be a Well, if that’s how you feel about it, then I’m leaving. Just as soon as I get that one more beer.
It’s interview season in Japan. Continue reading “What Do You Think of Japan?”