Subway Shoes

I love random subway encounters that surprise you in the most delightful of ways.

Tonight, after returning from the "romantic Tokyo bistro" izakaya Zenkichi in Williamsburg (which was delicious, by the way), I had to transfer trains at Union Square.  So I plopped my rear down in one of the wooden benches and began reading...

Next thing I realize is that three pairs of skateboarder-ish shoes and legs have stopped around me.  I'm not quite sure if these hoodlums are about to ask me for money or attack me, but I'm pretty sure this encounter will at least be uncomfortable.

Next thing I know, hoodlum one asks me, "Where'd you get those shoes?"

I pull up the tag and tell him they're Pumas.  He says, "I see, but where'd you get them?"

And I tell him in Japan, and his look bums over as he walks away.

And as he progresses down the platform, I hear him call back, "Those shoes are (some 2010 word that means the same thing as fly, sweet, awesome, or radical)!!"

And I smiled.

For all the looks I get for my fashion choices, the best are the myriad of reactions to anything from overseas, from love to hate.  And that one just made me smile.

You never know when stereotypes will come crashing down and surprise you.

Toph Fails at Japan, Part 4

So I failed again.

But this time I succeeded at resolving my failure nearly instantaneously!

Basically, today when I was getting off the train at Shin-Urayasu station on the way home, I hit my head on the doors on the way out, as I am apt to do since the doors are not exactly tall enough for a 6' 3'' gai-jin. In fact, though I make mental notes not to do so, I hit the doors or the grab bars or the handles pretty much about once a week.

And I ALWAYS hit my knees on their darn tables. That's really getting old.

But the unfortunate thing about hitting my head today was the fact that my sunglasses were on top of my head.

And in one of those slow-motion, I'm-watching-myself-in-a-movie moments, I nearly caught the glasses as they fell... right in between the train and the station platform.

I failed.

And so, I cursed Japan (since I already had a headache and was grumpy), and then reminded myself that, in fact, I was the stupid one for wearing sunglasses on top of my head when the sun had already set. And I chalked up the fact that my sunglasses were about to be crushed and gone forever as the train pulled away and I stood there in shock.

Which was exceptionally disappointing since these are my amazing "Nerds: The Musical" sunglasses from when I worked at HersheyPark that I've somehow managed to hold onto for 4 years until they were back in style like Ray Bans. And they were a costume piece I got for free and they have loads of memories.

Yet, when the train pulled away, there were my glasses, in one piece, laying between the rails and the platform on the rocks of the train bed. Only they were 4 feet below my feet.

Now I contemplated jumping down to retrieve them, or laying down on the platform and trying to grasp them with my long arms, which, if I was in New York, is exactly what I would have done. However, this being Japan, it felt like a rude and bad idea with so many people watching (not to mention unsafe) even though I knew, courtesy of the electronic display and timetables, that the next train wasn't scheduled to arrive for 7 minutes (which is definitely unlike New York).

So I went downstairs, and somehow described my situation to one of the station attendants with gestures and broken English, and lo and behold, he understood!

Then proceeded one of my favorite moments in Japan ever. Two station attendants came out of the office armed with a cell phone and a long grabber pole thingy. I'm guessing you know what I mean... one of those poles with a claw at the end that you squeeze a lever to operate and grab stuff with? Like trash pickerupper things?

Anyway, we geo back up to the platform and I went to show them where my glasses are, but they gently steered me aside because said 7-minute-later train was arriving. Once the train left, we found my glasses, and then one of the men starts talking on his phone while the guy with the pickerupper thingy just stands there.

At which, I must say, I was rather confused. I mean, my glasses were right there and he had the magic stick. So why wouldn't he grab them?

That was, until I figured out that he was calling his supervisor (or somebody) to tell them we were retrieving my sunglasses from Track 2 and to get proper clearance.

Seriously.

It took 2 men and a phone call to be allowed to grab my sunglasses with a claw on the end of a stick.

But we got said permission, the other man used his magic stick, and my sunglasses were solidly back in my possession, only 8 minutes after I had dropped them!

Which, considering my first attempt at retrieving a lost item at the station, seems pretty amazing by comparison with how smoothly and quickly it happened.

So there you have it. I failed at Japan and yet was able to solve the problem safely, without using my BGP whilst overcoming the language barrier quickly and efficiently.

I say that sounds like success!

Which, PS, could NEVER have happened in New York because we all know you'd go to the booth to tell them you dropped something and the person would say, "So? Sorry. Guess that sucks." You'd clearly have to jump down on the tracks risking your own life with no regard to rules just to see your stuff again.

So thank you, Japan. I don't mind that it took 2 men and a phone call 'cause I got my glasses.

And my new high tops too!!!!

Subways are for Reading

Welcome to the world of Tophs!

This little venture will hopefully turn out to be a wonderful way to keep in touch with my family and friends stateside, and also a little record of the comical and not-so-comical adventures of Tophs in Japan.

Today's anecdote:

I'm stressed. I know I'm going to a country in 2 days that I'm not prepared for, speak next-to-nothing of the language, and am pretty much maintaining a controlled freak out at all times.

So today, I thought, while running my eight-five gajillion errands, that I'd pull out my little Travel book on loan from KV while riding the Never/Rarely/Whenever train into Manhattan. (that's a whole 'nother story about NYC's nearly disastrous fare hike). Anyway, in the ten minutes I felt like reading, apparently the nice woman next to me felt she should read over my shoulder as well! In fact, she politely asked if I was travelling to Japan (yes, ma'am), and I explained I would soon be working for Tokyo Disney. Cut to... Mayumi (sp?) and I had a 2 stop conversation all about our business, because I happened to be reading my Japan guidebook for the FIRST time ever next to an ex-pat from Japan who's been working on the Bway for 10 years. A dancer in my business from Tokyo? Only in New York. Except as my friend ZE pointed out... the fallacy with that statement is that it actually could happen anywhere.

Not really a great anecdote. But day 1 of this baby. Passport in order, printing out 166 photos to make myself feel at home, and basically, minimally, actually, really, nope... humongously freaking out!