Friday was Act 1, Scene 1 through 29.
Today is Tuesday, Act 2, Scene 1 - 361
I emerged from the building trying to shake of the effects of a coma, and clutching a still warm peanut butter toasted sandwich. In my delirium I had that same feeling that stalked me on Friday: You're forgetting something...
Meanwhile buses vroomed alongside the sidewalk while I rushed to the stop and my rendezvous with 7:19am. Except perchance, alas, I noticed yonder 3300 bus. I vaulted over the steel railing (more accurately I sort of fell over it, squashing many precious organs in the process), and ran with my precious cache between buses, using my peanut butter sandwich as a shield. The bus driver opened the door in an almost unfathomable act of kindness (had he not done so I have had to walk another 350m and wait another 40 minutes).
I almost paid my bus fare with the peanut butter toasted sandwich, but good sense prevailed, and I slipped W7000 into the slot.
I sat down at the back, and proceeded to gobble down some breakfast. Over the course of the bus trip an ajuma headed straight for me (the bus was completely full except for the seat beside me which seemed to have a sign saying 'Reserved', or "Revolving Door Policy For This Seat, Not Sitting For Longer Than 5 Minutes (By Penalty of being smeared with Peanut Butter).
The ajuma practically fell on me, then almost yelped with shock and revulsion as she appeared to mistake the armrest for something else (really). 4 minutes, 58 seconds later, she scuttled off to another chair when it became available. Same thing happened with another air hostess, except she broke her fall on someone elses nose beside me.
At the airport, feeling like I was an extra in Grondhog Day Korea, I got into line and explored the feeling once more: There's something you've forgotten.
I caught a grey suited Korean businessman literally looking at me from my white slipslops to my cap and down again, and ignored the impulse to ask, "Have you really never ever seen a real live white person?" Instead I decided that possibly some more revolting thing is causing seats beside me to be vacated and pressing stairs. Sure enough, I found a smear of Peanut Butter on the strap of my Billabong Bag. Maybe there were smears oozing down my cheeks. I brushed off breadcrumbs obsessively, trying to exterminate anything that mind attract The Painful Gaze. I resolved, while in line, to head for the bathrooms after going through ticketing and wash all smears and ooze right out of my hair...or wherever else it might be.
Turns out it was only on my bag. I washed hands, sniffed myself to make sure I didn't smell, and congratulated myself on remembering to shave and brush my teeth.
I board the flight in 28 minutes. Don't tell me I'm being pedantic about time. My flight arrives at 11:30, the Consulate closes at 12:00 for lunch, then opens at 13:30, then shuts at 16:00. I have to get there, be issed the VISA (you can only be issued the VISA same day if you get there before 14:00. Even if I get it, my international flight departs at 17:25 and I'm likely to receive my VISA, at worst, just before 4pm, if I am lucky enough to get it today. If not, horrors, walking the streets of Osaka tonight, and somehow purchase a return ticket tomorrow sometime.
The Visa run to Japan is like running the gauntlet. If you get just a little lost, take one subway in the wrong direction, arrive five minutes late...well, the consequences can be dire. Failure can mean deportation at worst, losing your job as a booby prize.
Wish me luck as I sip my smoothie, zip up my bags, count my change, and suck at an oily piece of peanut butter that looks suspiciously like toothpaste or worse on my shirt, but definitely is peanut butter. Everbody is still watching me, but here I go. Again.
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