For starters, in any culture, I don’t think women are impressed by the shotgun approach. “Will you go out with me? No? Okay, what about you over there? Do you have a sister who is single and desperate and looks good in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform?” Remember, all the women there are part of the same good ol’ girl network, and word will spread at the speed of fart if I start randomly hitting on them. So, step one – identify my
I’ve been eating at Umezono and observing the Nihon no chiisai usagi since late March, but only recently narrowed my choices down to two. Yamada-san’s daughter, the sushi chefette, has a great sense of humor and an expressive face that usually makes her look like she’s suffering from a life-threatening case of hemorrhoids while she’s working, but when she jokes it takes on a snarky smile I find very engaging. When she’s really pleased, such as the first time I spoke Japanese to her, her smile lights up her entire face. I hate that cliché, but I have to use it because it is the most appropriate description. In fact, I never appreciated the meaning of the phrase until I saw it in her.
Emi-san is gentle with an affectionate smile and caring eyes that radiate concern when she is worried that a patron isn’t enjoying a meal, but her eyes quickly switch to warmth when she is reassured. I got to see that up close when they served me a delicious beef and rice meal, gyudon, that I just couldn’t finish. They are not used to dumb fat white rednecks who can’t clean their plate. They’re used to dumb fat white rednecks complaining about how they don’t give you enough beef. Point is, she’s very kind, something I’ve come to appreciate more with the passing years as I grow closer to grim death. To quote Jimmy Stewart from Harvey, “In this world, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant. Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. And you may quote me.”
I mentally ticked off all the pros and cons of approaching each. The waitresses aren’t assigned to stations and don’t linger, so they are difficult to engage in conversation. Yamada-san’s daughter is stationary, but always worked with Yamada-san himself. Emi-san is older than me and may no longer want children. Neither wears a wedding band. I was leaning towards Emi-san when Yamada-san let his daughter take over lunches, so now she frequently works alone. Just when I was putting together a plan to approach her, I realized something significant.
I have male friends in dedicated relationships, some married, some not, and I can honestly say that 99% of the time I consider myself the lucky one. However, on those extremely rare occasions that we’re all together and their significant bitches finally shut their noise-holes, sit down, and cuddle with them, then I feel I feel lonely. I admit that is something I would like in my life, and I sometimes picture myself on a couch watching a good movie (such as Ichi the Killer) with the right woman curled by my side. And then it hit me – whenever I visualize such things, my brain always casts the role of the woman with Emi-san. Apparently while my brain was debating, my heart (or something South of it) made the decision for me. (insert maudlin violin music) (change station to death metal)
This is running long, so I’ll say sayounara for today and finish calling you a pack of fecking idiots tomorrow. Yes – I am the master of suspense.