Monday, August 13, 2007

Booker T. - San

There is a coffee shop in Little Tokyo where I sometimes go to hide for an hour during the day. Even when the place is crowded, there is a corner where I may wedge myself and be out of the way.

A large group of middle-aged Japanese people came in and took up two tables, segregating themselves by sex. The men engaged in loud, masculine, Japanese conversation and the women's table seemed relieved to be rid of them.

The eldest woman in their party had silvery hair and large eyeglasses. Over the tabletop, her back was straight, her gaze clear, and her body very still. Beneath the table, where only I could see, her stockinged foot was tapping to the beat of Booker T. and the M.G.'s.


Anonymous said...

I have heard from Americans who've studied Japanese that men and women learn very different, er, techniques for speaking: men learn a gutteral, harsh (read: butch) style of speaking, while women learn a softer, gentler style. I think I would not fit in because I would prefer to speak like the women, and I don't look like them. The beard is a dead giveaway.

Little Mama said...

I love how you notice the little things.