So, that's what Odysseus felt like...

 

(If Lady Gaga and Bjork had binged on Gummy bears and nickel candy, this is what they would throw up)

Went to my lesson again last night.  So far I haven’t missed a one, even though I have been tempted to cancel a few times.  Because of my schedule, I usually get there really early.  It’s either that, or go back to my apartment for 5 minutes before I have to leave again.  So it seems that when I get there early, the first person in is Student A (if you reference my last post).  Since we are the only people in the room, of course we are going to talk, it would be rude not to… Maybe being rude is the better thing in this case.  Student A has to ‘win’ the conversation, and is constantly one- upping.  If I take the conversation another way, Student A will start hinting at things they want to talk about.  When it was said, I am sore from working out so much (as a huge loaf of bread is hurridly being stuffed in Student A’s mouth) and they are so sore, but they are in a quandary because Student A’s art is suffering because there is only so much time for one.  This is kind of conflicting with the earlier “I haven’t been asleep for 48 hours” in combination with “I have become a huge fan of British TV, and I watch it all the time.”  I have decided just to ride it out until someone else comes into class and distracts them.  I almost laughed at the “suffering artist” complaint though, but it doesn’t really surprise me.  I left the art world because of the prevalence of that whiney attitude.  I made the mistake of asking advice for which graphic art tool to use since I was new to the game, and that opened me up to the flood gates of “I was a graphic artist major in College, and all the cool people use this program… What you have is the worst program (contrary to many other graphic artists I asked before downloading the program, ergo I am a total lame-o.  Anyways, once the lesson is underway and Student A is focused, it’s a pleasure being in class with them.  Outside of class, I think I would rather talk with some of the homeless people outside, they are honestly far more interesting and seemingly genuine.  What the hell do I know though, I see this person for only an hour and a half a week.  Just my impression I keep to myself and to you lucky random viewer.

There is a big issue in Japan with Chikan チカンor molesters in the train.  Generally speaking, they fondle women on the train hoping the innate shame felt by a lot of Japanese women will allow them to get away with it.  This has led to Japan having some segregated trains, which interesting enough, I have been told is avoided by a lot of women because of the toxic miasma of competing perfumes and that a car full of women will make some of them unusually aggressive when getting on and off the train.  When men are caught doing this, the consequences are similar to being caught on that good old show ‘to catch a predator’.  There have now been cases where girls have just told men to pay them off, or they will tell the police that the guy molested them.  There is almost nothing that happens to the girls, but their word is taken as true, and when it’s a ‘he said she said’ type argument, the guy is going to lose.  This has created some odd behavior in some men on the train around pretty women.  My favorite technique is for guys to reach up for the hand straps and almost handcuff themselves with both hands to the strap if they can’t move away.  So… why the hell am I talking about this?  Because it’s made me paranoid! Let me take today for instance.  On the train ride to work, I had rested my umbrella on a vertical hand-rail next to the door, and moved in front of a seat nearby.  The train wasn’t particularly crowded as Japanese trains go, but crowded enough that I had to stand.  Well, a gorgeous woman gets on the train and attaches herself to that rail and won’t let go.  It’s a peculiarity of some train-goers to hang on to that rail for dear life, and she is doing it with gusto, facing away from me… her very shapely behind resting against my umbrella.  It’s raining like hell outside, and I will need that umbrella, so there I am staring at my umbrella, pondering on how I can take hold of it without touching her… Alas there is no way.  Then I realize to myself, it actually looks like I am gawking at her behind… when all I really want is my damn umbrella!  I was saved in the end by a jack ass hauling off the train that nudged her enough that I could make a very obvious move for my umbrella.

I just want my umbrella....

Later on, when getting the bus back home, the only bus that is available is packed… I mean so packed I can only get one step in before the doors close.  Why is it so packed?  The women’s beauty college just let out, and I am on a bus packed with amazing looking women.  The first thing that shoots through my mind is… Truly, I am in Valhalla!  The place all good warriors rest in blissful eternity…  That lasted about 10 seconds until a new group gets on the bus and pushes me into the middle of the pack… and I am literally squished against them.  Now… the best way to describe how I feel is not a really happy happy man, as I should be… but instead, I feel like Indiana Jones when he fell in the pit full of snakes.  That really cute girl in front of me… yeah… that’s the uber venomous cobra…. Don’t move a muscle…  A new crowd gets on the bus and a few get off… So now I am pressed against a lot of amazing looking women.  The Indiana Jones scene has now switched to when the Nazis have taken out the arc, while he is screaming “DON’T LOOK AT IT!!!!”

I finally get off the bus, and I say to myself “So that’s what Odysseus felt like.”