Why I hate you Americans

Recently, while lunching in Umezono, I had the displeasure of listening to a trio of American businessmen as they loudly sat at their table, tried to impress each other with their materialistic accomplishments, harassed the waitresses, and generally annoyed the patrons. I have to issue an apology to the dumb, fat redneck who I once thought was a bad customer. To DFR, I say – sumimasen. Apparently there are worse people than you, like upper class yuppie twits.

The three in question, wearing tre gay polo shirts and chinos, sat at a table near the center of the restaurant and yakked loudly about who had the most expensive hobby (yachting won), who had the most expensive car (Mercedes won), and who had the most expensive wife (the Alpha Jerk won – his wife burned money like it was lighter fluid). AJ stretched his legs into the aisle, leaned back in his seat to violate the personal space of the Japanese family behind him, and had a loud cell phone conversation with the expensive wife of another yuppie twit who was (thankfully) absent, and hopefully dead. I can dream, can’t I?

The woman on the other end instructed AJ to tell the sushi chef to make her a super crunchy roll, something I have never seen on the menu. Yamata-san (the head sushi chef) said he didn’t know what that was. AJ relayed that info, then responded to the nearest waitress with “She said she’s eaten here before, and that man standing right there” – pointing at Yamata-san – “made her a super crunchy roll”. Yamata-san, being Japanese and uncomfortable with a direct refusal, simply kept working and shook his head no. After a few rounds of this, the woman gave up and shouted “WhatEVER!” I know this because AJ informed the room.

At this point I really wanted to say something, but I’m not one of those types of people who takes action by doing something I know will only worsen the situation and then, when the dust and feathers settle, says “Well, at least I tried”. I leave that to the xtian fundamentalists. I knew if I said “You’re being rude” they wouldn’t likely say “Oh, really? Thank you for correcting our behavior.” If I said anything, the matter would probably escalate to shouting, and then to physical violence (okay, that would be me escalating it to that – yuppies don’t use their fists unless it’s on the wife and kids). Personally, I had no problem with getting physical. I’m not a tough guy or karate expert, but I know I can hold my own, especially against loud-mouthed losers like them. Besides, all I’d have to do is drop the alpha and the others would quickly fall in line. Some people might think the Nihon no usagi would be impressed by my rushing to their defense, but if I understand the Japanese correctly they would be uncomfortable with my actions, especially if I turned a bad situation into an even worse one. So I sat quietly by, made sure my manners were at their best, and hoped Yamata-san and the usagi noticed that not all hakujin are loud-mouthed pricks.

AJ settled down a little after getting off the phone and began loudly telling his buddies what a bitch she was, although he shied away from that term. He actually seemed somewhat impressed by her ability to raise hell. After that, the group began harassing the waitresses by asking for non-existent sushi rolls, such as the Philadelphia roll (“It’s filled with cream cheese”). The subservient yuppie pinheads offered up suggestions to AJ and let him do the dirty work. “Hey, ask her for a Boston roll next – you know, with baked beans?” In response, they sent the (I think) head waitress over. She’s the kindest and the best with English, and they call her over whenever there’s a problem, such as if you’re a stupid redneck. If somebody has to ask for her assistance, it’s a good sign you’re doing something wrong. I’m hoping to marry her, or possibly Yamata-san’s daughter. Preferably both.

In closing – わたしは　にほんじん　です。