April 2005 Archives

Sometimes, the horse gets you.

No afternoon classes, nice weather, and complete and total boredom drove me outdoors one day, to interact with the kids during their sports clubs. This is usually a pretty enjoyable activity, as I can talk freely with them outside of class lessons, and even play along with them from time to time.

I ran into a group of about 10 girls from the badminton club. We exchanged some of our typical banter, ending with the usual.

Them: "English is very difficult!" (said in English)

Me: "Maybe. But if you keep studying hard, you can do it!" I gave them with my "nice guy" pose of a toothy-grin and an exaggerated thumbs-up motion. This is usually enough to get the kids to smile at least, but today these girls weren't phased in the least.

"You do that way too often," one of them said. "You really need a new thing."

Huh. Tough crowd.

Randomness from all across the board.

I was talking with one of my English teachers (the one with the big-headed boyfriend) and somehow we got on the topic of American sayings. She asked me to teach her some, so I started with, "Don't beat around the bush." I thought this would be appropriate, living in the Capital of Indirectness and all.

As I was explaining the meaning, she pointed to the "bush" at the end of the sentence and said, "Oh... is this Prime Minister Bush?"

He's a Prime Minister now?! What's been going on in America since I've been gone? And why are we beating around him?

I went to the Entrance Ceremony at the Ghetto School. The Entrance Ceremony is just to celebrate the new ichinensei class coming into the school. No, they didn't pass any insane entrance exams or run The Gauntlet or anything like that. They just finished the last year of elementary school and became Jr. High Schoolers. Why does this warrant a ceremony? Well, Japan loves boring and pointless ceremonies, the end.

So a new school year has started. How things stand at the Ghetto School: the Cherry Boys are gone; the ichinensei are ninensei now; the ninensei are sannensei. Those ninensei bastards are now sannensei bastards, and have somehow gotten worse. I don't know what the new ichinensei are like; I haven't had class with them yet. As they marched in, I tried to identify any possible Kancho Assassins, but my senses are still down so I came up with nothing.

After the ceremony, as everyone was filing out of the gym, I happened to be walking right in the middle of the old ichinensei, now ninensei. Ultimate Kancho/Chidori boy came up to me and said hi. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn't run away or Gaijin Super-Kick him or anything else pre-emptive. He asked to see my right hand. I was a little suspicious, but it's only my hand, right? I reluctantly gave it to him. He took it and suddenly I felt something weird. What is that? Am I hungry? Nope, that's not it. Sick? Nope, that's not it either. Horny? God I hope not. I quickly realized that it was a very low-key, mellow version of my Dodgedick Sense™, mildly tingling. I began to make evasive maneuvers just as the boy took a stab at my dick.

Sigh.

I went home over Spring Vacation. I had hoped to go to some other country on an exciting vacation, or if not, close the storm shutters and sleep for a week. Mom however, sensed my ANGST! from clear across the Pacific (now you see where I get my senses from) and brought me home. Which, really, was the best thing I could've done.

Being in Japan starts to dull one's American sensibilities after a while. Things that are weird there no longer seem so, and things that are ordinary here become absolutely amazing. For example, I got off at the airport, and my first thought as I came through customs was, "Whoa....black people. Huh, look at that. HOLY SHIT, IS THAT A MEXICAN?!" See, this is no big deal for any of you, but for me this was an event.

After meeting with my parents, we went immediately to a restaurant where I had some good 'ol American steak. One might say I tore up some steak, again.

I came back from my lunchtime excursion to the safe haven of the teacher's room without incident. Kancho Sense™ and all my other wonderful defensive tools were on the fritz, and the day was only half over. It was my carelessness last time that led to me being violated. So I would have to rely on other means for protection. I'd have to use my Oh Shit Something's Coming! Sense. You'll notice that this Sense isn't trademarked, because it's nothing original. Every guy who grew up in the mid-90's has this sense. It's a sense born out of necessity, for survival. Allow me to explain.

Back in The Day, the Internet was a way different beast than it is now. Now, it's a vast and expansive resource... for porn. But back then, the internet wasn't for porn! Shocking, I know, but bear with me. Of course, there was porn on the Internet, but it wasn't easy to find. You had to lie to hundreds of disclaimer screens, and even then probably buy some really expensive membership. It could take hours just to find a site with free pictures. Nowadays, you can download porn DVD rips in under an hour. We've come a long way, baby.

So for us adolescent males, unless our dads had an easily accessible stash of videos or magazines hidden away somewhere, we relied on late night skin flicks on HBO, Showtime, and especially Cinemax to get our fix. These B-movie bombs were absolute wastes of the reels they were produced on. Their only purpose was to get some second rate actress (usually Shannon Tweed) naked and in a softcore sex scene for a minute or two. Even then, all we really got was boobies (not that I'm complaining; I likes the boobies). This was our excitement, ladies and gentlemen. The current generation of young boys have no idea how good they have it.

In Japan, schools have "cleaning time" built into the schedule, when the kids (and occasionally the teachers) perform campus wide cleaning. It usually lasts about 15 minutes, and takes place after lunch or school. It's an admirable thought, but kids are, after all, kids, so mostly they end up swinging brooms around and pushing dirt into places where you can't easily see it. I always contribute to cleaning time in the American way - by sitting on my ass in the teachers' room. I tell my kids that we don't have cleaning time in America (at least, at any of the schools I went to) and this is absolutely shocking news to them.

On the last day before Spring Vacation, there was a big cleaning time, followed by a closing ceremony (Japan loves ceremonies). Everyone got out, rolled up their sleeves, and cleaned the school "by our own hands." I played my part by rolling up my sleeves and checking Yahoo! News for the 15th time in 3 hours. Update, damn you, update. But eventually, I left the teachers' room to go to the bathroom, and while I was up I figured I'd buy my lunch from the local convenience store.

On my way to the bathroom I suddenly got kancho'ed. The fuck is this?! I turned around, but my assailant had already passed. I looked forward to see the "I'll get it one day!" boy, holding some kind of big box of supplies in one hand, walking by with a fat grin on his face. I couldn't believe it.

I stood at the front of the class with my teacher, as the ichinensei slowly poured into the room. On an ordinary day, if I'd had my Kancho Sense™, it would have been going off like crazy. If I'd had my Dodgedick Sense™, that too would be sending little alarms off in my head, telling me to move my position or at least send out some "Black man's gonna getcha!" Gaijin Intimidation waves or something. If I'd even had Kancho Time, I could have ran up the wall, backflipped over all of them, and ran downstairs back to the teachers' room before they knew what hit them.

If.

Instead, I stood there like an oaf, a Big Gaijin Target, oblivious as they gathered around me. Suddenly, a hand emerged from the crowd and tried to grab my dick. It missed, jabbing me in the thigh. I tried to reach down and grab the culprit, but the hand disappeared into the sea of bodies as quickly as it came. I knew, I just knew, it was from the Ultimate Kancho boy.

I looked up, and in a moment of classic 1980's TV slow motion (the last of my powers?), I saw a sea of hands moving forward, closing in on my nether-regions. "Oh shit!" I exclaimed. I jumped behind my teacher, and used her as a human shield. Now, I know it's not exactly honorable for me to have jumped behind a defenseless Japanese girl as the Kancho/Dick Assassins went on the offensive. But I don't care. They were coming fast and hard, and they were coming for my shit, man. What else am I supposed to do?! I don't regret it, not in the least. Protect me from your evil little people, woman.