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Jul 16, 2004 17:19 # 24574
Recently, I've been quite saddened by the lack of wacky hijinks in my life.
In the glory days of my geekdom in high school, I used to do utterly stupid things to fulfill my wacky hijinks quotient. The best one was, after taking the ACT exams, my friend Michal and I sat in the median by a major intersection offering Mentos to passerby. Sadly, no one took us up on our proffered mints, but we did get plenty of honked horns and cheeky grins. And two whole rolls of The Freshmaker all to ourselves.
Close runner-up was the Chinese firedrill five of us had at a stop sign in the middle of suburbia. Anyone who knows what a Chinese firedrill also knows, of course, why this is a fundamentally idiotic thing to do at a stop sign. Quality foolishness, that was.
My collegiate career, too, was peppered with silliness, from the one successful and many failed attempts to break into the tunnels beneath campus, to writing derisive commentary about specific professors on the sidewalks in chalk in the middle of the night. Take that, French department.
When I was an exchange student in Japan two years ago, I did some pretty obnoxious things... two friends and I polled a whole bunch of the Japanese students re: their stereotypes of Americans. Best answers included: Most popular food in the U.S.- bread without beans inside. Most common personality type- tall.
But lately I've felt the need to grow up and be more professional, and away from a college campus I don't feel like I can get away with as much-- I always get some slack for being a foreigner, but I hate to push my limits.
However, I am pleased to announce that the wacky hijinks have returned.
I probably shouldn't be as gleeful about this as I am, but... I just learned today, due to a little detective work and the careful eavesdropping done by one of my Japanese co-workers, that our adorable little international preschool is funded by a branch of the Japanese mafia. (No, I really am not kidding. Men in suits stop by our office quite often.)
The irony here is rich, since the yakuza are notorious for hating foreigners, and surely they have kneecaps to break, instead of children to educate?
I think, in any case, that ferreting out this little tidbit was just the tip of the wacky iceberg...
Welcome back, hijinks. Stick around for the mafia madness, won't you?
My stepdad isn't mean, he's just adjusting. -Death to Smoochy
This post was edited by r_pendragon on Jul 16, 2004.
Jul 16, 2004 19:18 # 24576
My friend John, a half-Japanese young man who moved here from, I think, Kyoto when he was six returned to Japan a couple of times during his college career. At one point, a group of guys in suits with some half-visible tatoos (which, apparently, are sure-fire signs that you're with the mafia?) rode by him on bikes, and one ran over his foot. At another point, he was chilling at a noodle stand, enjoying his soba, when two guys sat down next to him, "blinging out the ass" as John said. He struck up a conversation with the one guy while the other associate snickered like a weasel from time to time. After a while, John asked what he did for a living; the reply was "I am self-employed." John fears the yakuza ever since he let those guys pay for his soba.