Scribbler's Cafe

A rare break

I’m sitting in a wood paneled restaurant above the convenience store a block from the school where I teach. I was lured up the stairs by the fabulous old jazz music pouring out the door – that, and my need to eat something before the big staff meeting that will last past dinner. I sat down in a corner and mumbled some atrocious Japanese at the waiter. He rewarded me moments later with a giant bowl of Spaghetti with meat sauce. This is a much better reward for attempting Japanese than the blank stares I get where I work or at the shopping centers.

At the meeting:

I love watching the men fall asleep in the meetings. One-by-one, they lower their eyes and slip farther into themselves. Their bodies remain straight and poised as they start to drift off. I watch for the moment when sleep overtakes them. I seek to identify the moment it happens, the moment their heads become too heavy for their necks and their bodies slide half-a-foot lower in their chairs. The straight upright is no longer possible. It’s obvious then that they are not simply contemplating their hand-outs or their non-existent notes. It’s like the blue flash of the sun setting behind the ocean. The moment is thrilling and gratifying to catch.

Some students were bullied by some high schoolers at a remote, enclosed park, according to our principal. The solution to this problem is that now our middle school students are no longer allowed to play at parks – any park. The teachers, myself included, have been instructed to tell any students we recognize in uniform at a park to go home.

Yep. Japanese logic.

posted by Scribbler @ Friday, September 24, 2004