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ironing board

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Tokyo, 2019.12.15

Today I decided I'd had enough of the cell-like "hotel room" in which I've been hold up at the surprisingly cheap cost of ¥5000 a night and went on a long walk. I found a store with used stuff and in that store I found an ironing board for ¥500 and an iron for ¥1800. These I bought in preparation for further interviews while in the city.

Other than that, not much to report. I cleaned all of the laundry including the bedding, and had the dryer (which is the shower area of the bathroom) running all day. That triggered the lunatic Brazilian who lives next door, who was ranting and screaming at the lady who runs the B&B this afternoon. He was complaining about the noise, I think, I only heard him say that I'd gone out and that I'd left the "fan" running. He said this just as I emerged, and he scuttled away from me like a preposterous crab, but one that couldn't look me in the eye. Then he started hollering about a "check" from the landlady, and that if he didn't get one he was going to the police. I was heading out at the time, and didn't hear how it was resolved but I would have paid to see him go to the police, that's just an amazing thought.

I was heading out to see the old electronics area of Akihabara. Sadly, I suspect it is no more, most of the stalls seem to have been replaced with a glitzy lifeless retail area with a Starbucks.

rand()m quote

When I was a teenager I was sure I'd be dead before I was thirty. Let's just say that I am well into some serious gravy time now but sometimes I wonder if I am actually dead and this is hell.

—anonymous blog comment