Part 2
Max and I arrived at Yokohama Station around 1130. The station was relatively quiet, I assume everyone was out enjoying the Chinese New Year festivities. We made our way up the stairs and outside to the platform to Yokohama. The weather was cool and overcast, with just a hint of rain. This winter has been unseasonably warm in Japan, I've only seen snow once here, when I was at Nijo Castle in Kyoto.
"So Max, who else is coming with us?"
"I think it's me and you and maybe Tim. Gerald's got that interview, I never heard back from anyone else. Tim's going to call us from a payphone and let us know if he's coming."
Oh good. Tim has a habit of ducking out at the last minute. Even more so when Max was involved. On top of this, he has no cell phone, so I can't even yell at him while I'm angry. This time though, we got the call from Tim, and he told us he would be there in 30 minutes.
Two hours passed. In the meantime, we stood around the top of the escalator, doing what two white guys in Japan do best: admiring the local talent. I have spoken at great lengths about these girls' legs, though maybe not in this medium. The warm weather, combined with fashion trends have resulted in the girls here wearing tiny skirts in combination with knee-high or thigh-high stiletto boots. Combined with a lifetime of walking and bicycle riding...words cannot describe.
Of course, we talked about other things. Travelling, college, and the top concern on our minds, where the hell Tim was. Eventually, we decided to leave Tim and head on towards Kamakura. The train pulled up with a hiss, and we took our seats on a bench opposite two US military guys.
((Every time I try to write something, I end up having work to do, it never fails. Hence the rushed version I present here, I did what I could with 5 minutes. The next installment, in which things actually happen, will be of higher quality))
"So Max, who else is coming with us?"
"I think it's me and you and maybe Tim. Gerald's got that interview, I never heard back from anyone else. Tim's going to call us from a payphone and let us know if he's coming."
Oh good. Tim has a habit of ducking out at the last minute. Even more so when Max was involved. On top of this, he has no cell phone, so I can't even yell at him while I'm angry. This time though, we got the call from Tim, and he told us he would be there in 30 minutes.
Two hours passed. In the meantime, we stood around the top of the escalator, doing what two white guys in Japan do best: admiring the local talent. I have spoken at great lengths about these girls' legs, though maybe not in this medium. The warm weather, combined with fashion trends have resulted in the girls here wearing tiny skirts in combination with knee-high or thigh-high stiletto boots. Combined with a lifetime of walking and bicycle riding...words cannot describe.
Of course, we talked about other things. Travelling, college, and the top concern on our minds, where the hell Tim was. Eventually, we decided to leave Tim and head on towards Kamakura. The train pulled up with a hiss, and we took our seats on a bench opposite two US military guys.
((Every time I try to write something, I end up having work to do, it never fails. Hence the rushed version I present here, I did what I could with 5 minutes. The next installment, in which things actually happen, will be of higher quality))