See Kimiko run.
See Naoko welcome you.
See Kazuo welcome you.
See Chieko do more for you than you asked.
See the pretty little people wearing their pretty little uniform uniforms.
See Pochi bark and wake-up Andrew.
The above sentences aptly describe a visit to any Japanese service-oriented area--with perhaps the exception of Pochi the dog... even though it's true, too.
The wonderful thing about Japan is that the so-called 'services' sector in the West is an honest description here. For those of us having visited a store in Japan, you'll not find one instance of a worker there bowing and scraping and welcoming us into the establishment they work for.
Where else but Japan could a person walk by a gas service station and hear happy little workers run and welcome customers in polite shouts--complete with modern Japanese rock music playing in the background. After asking how much fuels is needed, the station attendants begin, in teams, to check: the oil; tires; antifreeze; empty the full to over-flowing ashtrays; and clean every speck of glass on the car and any the driver might be wearing. After servicing both driver and car, they then clear a path for easy access onto the road. A person doesn't even ned to ask for these services.
Yosh, sumimasen (hey, excuse me). Restaurants and bars are an experience not to be missed, as most readers of this blog seem to like their al-key-hall. Folks in these industries run all over the place quickly getting you food and drinks and actually seem happy about it.
TIPS... it's an acronym meaning "To Insure Prompt Service". Tips are not a part of the Japanese vocabulary. Now recall the folks were you live. Remember how the waiters won't let you out the door unless the tip you may or may not have left met with everybody's satisfaction?
I can still picture those fine eating establishments where you have to tip the guy who opened your car door, the guy who parked your car, the hat and coat-check girl, bribed the maître d' to admit he hadn't lost your your dining reservation, the guy who brings you the food you may have ordered, and the guy bringing your car back around so you can finally leave.
In Japan, if you leave money on the table for their good work, they promptly run after you. When your car finally stops at a red light, they politely knock on your window, bow deeply while extending their arms straight out to you holding the money you must have mistakenly left behind, apologize for disturbing your red light, bow and bow again before leaving for that jog back to the restaurant.
And what of the banks? All of the women who work servicing customers--they are ALL women--look sooooo cute in their pretty little uniforms and aesthetically similar hair - smiling and gesturing and trying to get all of your banking done for you, even though you are in the wrong line.
And then there are the plethora of bicycle repair shops that dot the landscape. Sure Japan has a lot of bikes, but surely it doesn't need a 1 to 1 ratio of repair shop to bicycle? How do they make enough money to survive? On one occasion, a shop fixed my light, patched a flat and straightened a tire - in 10 minutes. Back home it might or might not be ready for you on Monday, but you can pick it up on Wednesday because Tuesday is when we're playing golf, and when you do, bring a long your credit card and several bank statements to prove you can afford the charge. In Japan, it cost me ¥500 (yen) which is only $5.64 Canadian. The guy only asked for ¥200 ($2.25), but it just didn't seem right, and I didn't wish to take advantage of my minor celebrity status.
Somewhere enjoying the good life - except for that darn dog,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is by The Beatles. On their 1965 HELP album, the British Parlophone cover (see photo on top) shows the Beatles using their hands in flag semaphore letters to spell out H-E-L-P. Except it doesn't. The U.S. Capitol Records release (see photo above my signature) has the lads standing in different positions, but it too doesn't spell HELP. The UK version spells; N-U-J-V, while the US version spells N-V-U-J.
HELP, I can't spell.
