So there I was... sleeping... in my nice tatami mat room on my Queen-sized bed, courtesy of one of my fans in Ohtawara, who offered the bed to my Ohatawara Board of Education (OBOE) office after it became known that I had some back pain that was being aggravated by sleeping on a futon.
Actually, it was probably more aggravated by my having sex on the futon... and the knee burns from the tatami! Oy gevalt!
Anyhow.. sleeping... it's Saturday, September 14, 1991 here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.
Doorbell... okay... I'm going to ignore it.
It's not students from any of the junior high schools I teach at because they would have to ring it 100 times already.
Fifteen seconds later, the doorbell rings again. Ignore it. I'm dead.
Damn! A third ring!
I crawl out of bed and quietly make my way to the front door and peer through the peephole to see who the hell it is... Ashley?
Ashley is my ex-girlfriend here in Japan for the first nine months of my current-14 month stay. We are now friends-with-benefits, because while she enjoys the sex, she can't stand the idea of being tied down by having a full-time boyfriend. That's too bad, because I really, really like her and would love to be tied up, I mean tied down by her as my girlfriend... oh well... at least there's still sex. Tied up? Tied down? Which phase is funnier?
I let her in, grab a quick shower and then go out to talk to her.
She's apparently been up for hours. It's only 10AM! She doesn't state why she's been up for hours - Manic? Antsy? Horny? Dopey, Doc, Grumpy or Bashful? All I know is, this Cinderfella isn't getting his Sleeping Beauty rest.
I better stop. I'm getting Disney. I mean dizzy.
It's still raining. So we stay inside at my place.
We watch some videos from back home, make out a bit - it was weird... she was quite nice... with none of the bitchiness I hate and love at the same time. Hell, she was still very funny like she had been earlier this week - when I thought she was on her period... but now she admits she was clear last Wednesday... and was waiting for me to make my move like I was always forced to do.
Afterwards, she invites me back to her place to watch Black Rain and eat some more of her home-made soup. Guys... when a woman cooks food for you, she really loves you. That whole adage: "The way through a man's heart is through his stomach" - that's true. If you are eating take-out or ready-made meals all the time, or if you are like me and cooking for her, it's Loserville's one-way street. That was me this past year.
Now she is cooking food for me? It's soup. Does that count as a meal? Is that a meal if you are just a friend-with-benefits, or does she not know about that old saying?
I think too much, ne (eh)?
The gas in her apartment goes off suddenly, and no amount of kicking the stove will make it come back on, so I suggest she call her supervisor to call someone for help.
As she makes that call, I know my night is over early, and I ain't getting any. While Ashley has told anyone who will listen that she has never had a boyfriend, damn near everyone in Japan who has seen the two of us together (more often than often) would know that we were a couple. Hell, I told my bosses at the OBOE who asked if we were a couple, and they (I've heard from the OBOE) discussed the happy union with Ashley's bosses. When Ashley's bosses said "she keep's telling us she is single - why would she lie?" I told my bosses to inform them of the Japanese perception that a woman with a boyfriend must be sleeping around with him... and Ashley did not want to look like a slut.
I'm paraphrasing, of course. I don't believe I used the words "sleeping around".
As he makes his way over, I am making my way out.
I stay up until 2AM doing my jigsaw puzzle.
Crap. I have to get up early tomorrow to go dancing.
Somewhere not sleeping around,
Today' blog title is by The Beatles because I like the IRONY.
PS: Of course, you know what FINE means, right? Read about the BREAKUP