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running out of coffee

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Kawasaki, 2020.04.07

Last night I went out to get some things prior to the impending lock-down of Tokyo.

My first stop, naturally, was the coffee shop. I went to a Starbucks I found in mouth-of-the-gully and attempted to buy some decaf beans. But the woman ahead of me had just picked up both of the store's bags of decaf beans, and I was SOL. I guess hoarding decaf coffee beans is a thing? So I went to the Tulley's around the corner and found that they had been cleaned out as well. I'm not a huge fan of their decaf but it would have been better than nothing.

Defeated, I went back to "Donki". Here I had more success. I found a beard trimmer (I will be regrowing my white beard now that my job search is over), some scissors, and a five-port power bar. I also looked at lamps because the small loft where I sleep has a power plug and lights set into the ceiling which are controlled by a power switch that's under the stairs/ladder. But I wasn't impressed the various options I could see. I also found some hot sauce and some crunchy peanut butter which turned out to have both sugar and vegetable oil. D'oh! Funny enough, the scissors were so well packaged I struggled to get them out of the layers of plastic and tape. I jokingly told Mari during our morning chat that I needed scissors to get at the scissors.

On the way back to "Tsudayama" where I live (it literally means "port field mountain", I'm told it's a family name) I decided to stop in at a grocery store I'd passed many times without entering. It turned out to be a good choice. There's a strange rule in this country where the higher-end grocery stores are virtually impossible to find because they're ensconced inside basements of buildings adjacent to subway stations. The other day when I stumbled upon the one in the "mouth of the gulley" station I had to go to the basement, pass through doors that gave no indication of what lay behind them, pass a wall with no adornment other than some fire-fighting equipment, pass a sign advertising a travel agent's booth (which turned out to sell used camera equipment?) and then go through some ritzy bento shops. The one I finally entered last night at least had a sign:


Curiously, the store itself is below ground. The front of the store is given over to the long sloping escalators, and the rear of the store has the checkouts. The second floor has the parking.

Compare with the store I've been going to, which you can't miss (but probably should).


Big sign, not a great store.

Last night's find had a great selection of basically everything one might need. I found a decent "no additive" detergent, for instance. Also, some nice green onion unlike the withered 3mm gauge stuff I've been eating from my local shop. And a type of ice cream snack that Mari and I used to eat: designed like a fake slice of watermelon.

In the end, they've decided not to do a "hard lock-down" after all. 🙄

rand()m quote

Be an opener of doors for such as come after thee, and do not try to make the universe a blind alley.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson