Bicycles

When I first got here, I bought a bicycle. Seriously, within the first week, I think it was. It was a $50 POS bike, but it hauled me around for three months before I upgraded to a new $260 bike that my dad sent me money for (on top of the piles of cash he normally sends to keep my mooching butt afloat!). I lent my old bike to a friend who left a few days later and it was stolen some time after he returned it, around the beginning of August. No biggie, though, 'cause I still have my new bike. Right?

Well, when I went to Tokyo, my new bike was stolen. After not quite two months of owning it. So much for Japanese crime rates, I guess. At right is an artists rendition of me upon discovering my bike stolen. Sure it, it sucks, but it's the best I could get for two pieces of gum and some pocket lint.

The weird thing is that they were both locked up, and I still have both keys for both bikes' locks.

Anyway, I went to the police last week and reported that my bike had been stolen, but in a bizarre twist of paper shuffling, I told them my new bike had the numbers from my old bike, and when I discovered the new bike's registration the next day, I went down to the police station and sorted the matter out, which only took about an hour. The police now have the right number for my now-stolen, two-month old, $260 bike.

That was all last week. A week and seven trips to the police station later, I have a case number, which I can use to take advantage of the insurance policy that I got on my new bike. It only covers half the cost, but that's $130 more than nothing, and I'm sure going to take it. I'll probably end up spending another $20 or so to get a bike that isn't a mamacheri (mama's bike) and that is the right size.

Pantyshots and gropers

I walked my friend back to the train station last night, since it was nearly midnight, and when we left, there were two guys standing outside my building's door, just kind of chatting. Eh.
So I picked up two $1-menu things, had dinner, and went home.

When I got back nearly 45 minutes later, they were still there. It was pretty warm and rather humid outside, so I stopped and asked:
Me: "Why not go up to your room, with the air conditioner and whatnot? It's kind of warm out here, don't you think?"
Short guy: "The air is bad."
Me: "Oh, I know what you mean. I kind of like the way the wind feels, too. But it's still pretty hot out here, yeah?"
Tall guy: "But it feels nice."
Once I stopped moving and was just standing and talking, the temperature was perfect. Walking up and down hills, though, it was a touch muggy. I stood and talked to these two for about ten minutes, and then one of them made a gesture I didn't recognize.
Short guy: "Man, I can't wait for the Gion festival..." This is when he did the gesture.
Me: "Wait, what? What's that?"
Short guy: "What's what?"
Me: "This." I did my best to imitate the gesture. "What's that?"
Short guy: "It's... man, I shouldn'tve said that..."
Tall guy: "That's his groping motion."
Me: "Sorry, what?"
Tall guy: "It's kind of like..." and this is when made another gesture, though this one I at least recognized: he took his phone, but it between his legs, and tried to make a camera noise.
Me: "Oh, like chikan?" (chikan are train gropers, generally)
Tall guy: "Yeah! I'm not nearly as good as he is though."
Me: "So you guys are iya na yatsu?" (... basically "bad people")
Tall guy: "Yeah, pretty much."

So apparently, you need to watch out for gropers during festivals. News to me. One guy was a stuntman, by the way. I thought that was pretty cool.