The day started out a bit lazy on my part, I was not want to move too much as my futon was such a happy place to be. Eventually, however, I ventured away from my happy sleepy state and moved on to productivity.
I had half a mind to say screw it and not take the bike, it had rained awfully hard the night before and the skies didn’t look overly promising.
Alas, on Tuesday night, Mike had asked me if I was going to ride the bike to work and I had told him yes; thus, in a sense, I had sealed my fate.
I was quite chipper about it after a moment’s thought, however. At least this way, I could stay out later than I usually do on Wednesday night and I could get noodles. I had made a “wager” with Darya pertaining to a crush…guess who won? Wahoo! Free noodles!
After gathering what I thought I would need, and acquiring the CORRECT bike key (did I mention the reason the bike lock and I got into a disagreement before was because the key I was using was the one to Jacob’s bike in Shitennoji?), I set forth to conquer the bike lock.
Clank!
Rock. Who’s smart now, bike lock?
I shouldn’t have gotten cocky. There was a smirk on my face as I leisurely set my new backpack in the basket, retrieving my headphones, and preparing Wicked. Satisfied that everything was the way I wanted it to be, I prepared to set off.
Now, in America, when you kick the stand, it usually gives way.
Apparently, this is not the case in Japan.
I kicked the metal to no avail. Puzzled and frowning, I stared at the inanimate metal in a moment of confusion. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was laughing at me.
Okay. No need to panic. This is Japan; and in my six months experience here, I’ve come to learn that things in Japan can be all kinds of Japany — things that are logical by our standards are generally a conundrum…as in a freaking mystery or puzzlement!
I try again with a little more force.
Nothing.
This time, I try to gently nudge the kick stand.
Still nothing.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered. “This is some kind of bad joke.”
This is officially bordering annoying as my temper begins to flare slightly. I try a few more times, kicking it in both general directions, nudging, anything to get the gorram thing to give. In my frustration, I lay the bike on the ground and examine the offending metal a little more closely. With my hands, I push, pull, press, this way and that hoping to move the protesting piece of metal.
Nothing!
I can’t tell you how long I battled with the gorram thing, but I was going to be damned if I let the kick stand win! I muttered and grumbled a string a curses and swears, since this country has turned me into a sailor — but not of the bishoujo senshi variety.
Somehow, in frustration and impatience, I kick the stand in a certain way and it gives.
Hah! *jaguars awaken and growl, poised for attack*
Triumphant, I readjust everything and set off.
The beginning of the ride wasn’t too bad, I rode like the brash American that I am, standing occassionally and weaving where I could stand to. The throng of people at Tsurahashi tried to thwart me, but I successfully conquered the bike lock and the kick stand, so humans posed no threat to me.
Woo! I made it past Tsurahashi!
And then…I approached Tanimachi.
Peddling along, things seemed pretty five-by-five. There had been a few inclines along the way. No big.
But as I continued along Sennichimae-dori, I noticed a distinct ascent.
Oh.
So this is what everyone was talking about. I get it now.
No matter. I made it past a whole slew of other obstacles, this little hill wasn’t going to get the best of me! (Dammit…Janet…)
Determined to not look an ass, I steeled myself against the steady incline. I peddled on like an American, pushing my way up The Hill.
I crested The Hill, and it was wicked smooth sailing from there.
Finally, after some toil and trial, I arrived at OCAT, parking the bike in a spot I hoped to remember for after work. ‘Twas a good work out.
I met Darya for my promised noodles, and I gotta say, that was an amazing bowl of ramen. I know, that sounds crazy and stuff, but it had been a pretty long time since I’d eaten at Kinryuu, so I was especially happy. I had even gone home, content, with a huge smile on my face all because of that awesomely good meal.
Nothing especially thrilling happened in the afternoon: Darya once again experimented in the kitchen, much to everyone’s apprehension, my French exchange got cancelled, and there was general chillin’ to be had.
Work was fine, but then again, it always is for me. I’m not like everyone else. I don’t really complain about it because this is what I live for, this is what I trained for, and I work with good peoples like the Fight Club, Rob, Kate, Natashia, and the other co-workers turned friends that I have made. I wholeheartedly agree with Rob’s observation that in spite of everything work is and represents, sometimes, it’s something to look forward to if anything because it’s a chance to see certain people one otherwise wouldn’t get the chance to see.
There was some time closely related and associated with “the thrilling conclusion”. Things turned out fine, better than fine. Amusingly so. I may or may not elaborate on that, but in the simplest explanation, everything is five-by-five.
The Fight Club, or those of us present anyway, have been wont to gather after work and take to what I’ve dubbed The Courtyard, a little section resembling a campus quad between work and Max Value, the local grocery store we often frequent in search of provisions.
Kate had her observation that night; that stress coupled with having been accosted by another woman, which consequently resulted in her breaking her resolve and smoking, not to mention her moving to Kyushuu somehow elicited these words out of my mouth: “I’ll tell you what, I’ll buy you a drink after work.”
Seriously, the things that come out my mouth when I’m around that Brit. I think I’m a sucker for Brits.
Crap. She said yes. I have got to stop thinking she’ll decline.
I was in a good mood, though, so I was willing to not only buy Kate a drink but even do so at a bar should the others deem fit.
As we were departing the 15th Floor, I saw Steve, and promptly kidnapped him as well.
We were all rather content to do as we always do, Pinky…try to take over the world! NARF! Whoa, sorry, Mike has recently become the proud owner of that classic cartoon.
I bet you’d like to try that again…(ding!)
We were all rather content to do as we always do: purchase drinks/snacks from 7-Eleven and chillax in The Courtyard.
On our way to 7-Eleven, I decided to do something stupid. I told Kate. I half expected the girl to friends off me, but that was the part of me that wanted to be proven right about people. The unfair part of me that hates me just as much as I think others should or do. I never said I was a logical person. It always makes sense in my head.
I should have put more faith in the girl. (Does anyone else find that sentence as amusing as I do?) Kate’s a wonderful person. I was right in some aspects of this, however. I can sure pick ‘em!
Anyway, long story short, the Brit and I are five-by-five, friends and whatever.
She declined my offer of alcohol, and instead settled for a coffee.
We all settled on this faux grass hill: Mike, Anna, Phil, Kate, Scottish Steve, and myself. The evening was actually temperate and I daresay beautiful. I can’t for the life of me remember verbatim everything we talked about, but it really doesn’t matter what was said. What really mattered was that we were together, enjoying the respite from the heat, relaxing after work, sitting on the closest thing to grass we can get in this city of concrete, and just plain enjoying each other’s company, our laughter, our friendship.
Kate had to part our company at a time I usually did in order to catch last train, but we managed to persuade Steve to stay out and play a little longer. Anna had also taken leave of us, opting to go home and recover from her two nights of carousing.
Eventually, the boys and I got it in our heads to recline on the grass and stare up at the sky. We all wished the same thing, that we could see stars.
Okay, so for almost a month since we started this Wednesday night ritual, I’ve puzzled about this one building. It’s way tall and hella impressive looking. It’s an apato complex, I know this…but it baffles me in that it looks more or less vacant and no one hangs their laundry out on the balconies like the rest of Japan.
My Kuya got it in his head to challenge the building. A few times throughout the night, we actually spotted people entering the building. In one instance, the door was open long enough for Mike to book it into the building, leaving Phil, Steve, and me in wonder.
“Wow. He actually made it,” I murmured in awe.
He was gone for like twenty minutes; the three of us left to speculate on what he could be doing, etc. Also, since we’re geeks, we wondered about how difficult it would be for Batman to use his Bat-grappling hook majigger, like would it reach the top, etc, and then we also debated about Spiderman either scaling the building or using his websling. Such is the mind of geeks.
When Mike returned, he told us all about the building. He said it was…cold, sterile, not very warm and very industrial. Phil said it sounded like something out of The Juon.
The four of us eventually decided we wanted food of some kind, which resulted in patronizing Royal Host.
I took my leave thereafter, as it was fast approaching two in the morning and I had me a bike ride to contend with.
But the point is: it was an amazing Wednesday. Many good things happened, and it was a summer night remeniscent of home. Considering how homesick I’ve been, as in way missing everyone, it was just what I needed.
