My car stereo got fried. At some point there was an issue with rain and mold in said
automobile, which rent a large portion of it's hosted electronics totally unusable. So I
went to the house of my brother's friend...his father is a wholesaler for these sorts of
things. I got myself a nice low-end Sony deck for a cool $100. Easy transaction. In the
other room, there were roughly 7 Japanese girls, all eating pizza. I mentioned in passing
to the cheerful gentleman from whom I purchased the stereo, that I could speak those kids'
"No...I get embarrassed speaking other languages" (this is true)
"Why don't you do it anyway?"
I make for the door, but the (I now realize) rather vast man is blocking the only route of
egress in sight. hmmm. He calls over a pretty young lass who looks not unlike a surprised bird.
"Makiko, this guy has something he wants to say to you."
"uh.." I say. Clever, right?
I'm already embarrassed. Bear in mind that I've been working on my car all day. It's a '68 Pontiac and needs lots of love in order to survive. Yet all it gives me is hate, and non-functional brake lights. Is this fair? Anyway, I'm wearing a beat-up Metallica shirt, I'm covered in grease (literally, even my face), my
hair is quite unkempt, and I'm wearing two leather bands with studs on my right arm. I
was confronted with a sweet-faced Japanese girl of no more than 16, perhaps the cleanest
looking person I've ever seen in my entire life. She looked confused.
My language oppressor called over the translator as well. Maybe it wouldn't so bad. I was mainly concerned that if I spoke, I would open the floodgates and thousands of words I didn't comprehend would come forth. But if there was a translator about...could I avoid the issue alltogether? I became relieved. But not for
"Look, I just came over to buy a stereo, and this guy here wants me to speak Japanese, since
I know a little and..."
"Ah! Please! - Slow! -"
So, the translator doesn't speak a lick of english. Brilliant. I muster my strength:
"eeto. Ore, chotto nihongo ga hanaseru"
Both girls: "KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~!!!!"
Then they jumped several times in place. Truly.
wow. They were surprised. And happy. They sure didn't expect Japanese words to come out
of the mouth of a guy matching the description I just gave. Unfortunately I had used the
word 'ore' to refer to myself, without thinking about it. I do this when I'm just messing
around, and in my head. It's how badasses and old samurai refer to themselves. I probably
*should* have used 'boku' or 'watashi' especially since I don't know them. So I'm referring to myself as a hard-core guy, whilst using the politest, meekest language I can manage, due to my reticence. Thereafter it was an unavoidable dichotomy. Such is life eh?
I spoke to these girls for a short while. The 'translator' was breathless she was so
excited. Every other phrase was "sugoku ureshii!!" - "I'm so happy!".
Apparently this was the first time they had smiled for the duration of their home-stay up to that point.
I got a piece of pizza. All of these girls were going nuts. They stopped eating. Japanese girls. STOPPED EATING. My brother, ever the voice of reason:
"dude...if you didn't have a girlfriend you could totally sleep with any of these girls.
Hell, you could do it anyway!"
Yes, thanks. Tell me that.
Ah, brothers. But realizing he might not be half wrong, when the first two girls left (I believe to
find another to come marvel at the 'nihongo ga hanaseru gaijin') I made a stealthy,
But I finished my pizza.
Important lesson learned: NEVER SPEAK TO ANYONE.
Brandon Sheffield probably should have gotten a better handle on the situation.