I finally convinced my business partner to try some authentic cuisine. We’ve been on this trip for over a week and haven’t had any Japanese food. Leave it to him to find burgers and steak in Tokyo.
I take off my shoes after the young woman bows and opens the screen door for us. He doesn’t, which doesn’t surprise me. He looks around and sighs when he sees the pillows on the floor next to the low table. “Really? Let’s get this over with,” he says.
I sit down on my pillow, excited for the meal. He kneels in his designer suit; I can tell he’s having trouble sitting in the tight pants. I hear a rip and our eyebrows, and the geisha’s thin penciled-in eyebrows, raise. “Well don’t just stand there, at least get me a drink!”
He huffs and puffs through his first few tumblers of sake until he’s really worked up. “A fork, honey? I need a F-o-r-k? She doesn’t understand a lick of English! Arigato!” The geisha nods and smiles.
When she brings him back chopsticks, not a fork, he’s really had it. He stands up (pants split right up the middle) and kicks his pillow, knocking the table and causing the sake bottle to tumble and spill all over the floor and his leather shoes. He storms out, leaving me to deal with the language barrier.
So sorry. So, so sorry, I enunciate to the geisha, who responds by smoothing her kimono, winking and saying, “Do you think he still needs that fork?”
I take off my shoes after the young woman bows and opens the screen door for us. He doesn’t, which doesn’t surprise me. He looks around and sighs when he sees the pillows on the floor next to the low table. “Really? Let’s get this over with,” he says.
I sit down on my pillow, excited for the meal. He kneels in his designer suit; I can tell he’s having trouble sitting in the tight pants. I hear a rip and our eyebrows, and the geisha’s thin penciled-in eyebrows, raise. “Well don’t just stand there, at least get me a drink!”
He huffs and puffs through his first few tumblers of sake until he’s really worked up. “A fork, honey? I need a F-o-r-k? She doesn’t understand a lick of English! Arigato!” The geisha nods and smiles.
When she brings him back chopsticks, not a fork, he’s really had it. He stands up (pants split right up the middle) and kicks his pillow, knocking the table and causing the sake bottle to tumble and spill all over the floor and his leather shoes. He storms out, leaving me to deal with the language barrier.
So sorry. So, so sorry, I enunciate to the geisha, who responds by smoothing her kimono, winking and saying, “Do you think he still needs that fork?”
Japan
Silk
20th Century
22" wide x 18" high
