Saturday, June 05, 2010
The Incident
Yes, Japanese have wit. And some of it sarcastic. I give Mr Y the perfunctory bow, but mean it. He points out he doesn’t want clutter on the storeroom floor and instructs me to put one of the seldom-used printers on the scaffolding far above.
I climb the wheeled ladder with it and shoulder the printer into its niche, but lack the restraining strap. I explain to Mr Y it’s in my desk. He frowns as I begin climbing down--having lost face of course.
Suddenly the ladder whips left, then right, and back. Mr Y blankly stares at me as if I’m supplying some magical power. It’s an earthquake and everything shakes. Mr Y pitches forward to his knees just as the printer tumbles past me onto
his gray head.
I sub on the company’s emergency medical team and, when I can get off the ladder, ascertain he’s unfortunately dead.
I run for the strap, cut it with scissors and score and gouge
the two ends with a screwdriver. Climb back up the ladder and...well you know.
Then, see were I can help out the nurses.
Detective Hirwatari looks quizzical later, but shrugs. “Strap broke and printer fell--open and shut. But my superiors insist on report. And as crazy as it sounds, they’ll want to do forensics on that busted strap.”
So up I go to fetch it, sagging on the ladder as I anticipate disgrace and prison. Almost praying for an aftershock to distract him.
His cell phone sounds–-Eleanor Rigby ringtone would you believe?--and he becomes quite animated. “All right.
All right! Many dead in Komura district, so very many more reports needed! Damn Japanese preservationists want ancient neighborhoods saved. History, don’t you know?
A history of toothpicks!”
I hand him the strap. He glances at it and flings it
into the clutter.
Yes, Japanese have wit. And some of it sarcastic. I give Mr Y the perfunctory bow, but mean it. He points out he doesn’t want clutter on the storeroom floor and instructs me to put one of the seldom-used printers on the scaffolding far above.
I climb the wheeled ladder with it and shoulder the printer into its niche, but lack the restraining strap. I explain to Mr Y it’s in my desk. He frowns as I begin climbing down--having lost face of course.
Suddenly the ladder whips left, then right, and back. Mr Y blankly stares at me as if I’m supplying some magical power. It’s an earthquake and everything shakes. Mr Y pitches forward to his knees just as the printer tumbles past me onto
his gray head.
I sub on the company’s emergency medical team and, when I can get off the ladder, ascertain he’s unfortunately dead.
I run for the strap, cut it with scissors and score and gouge
the two ends with a screwdriver. Climb back up the ladder and...well you know.
Then, see were I can help out the nurses.
Detective Hirwatari looks quizzical later, but shrugs. “Strap broke and printer fell--open and shut. But my superiors insist on report. And as crazy as it sounds, they’ll want to do forensics on that busted strap.”
So up I go to fetch it, sagging on the ladder as I anticipate disgrace and prison. Almost praying for an aftershock to distract him.
His cell phone sounds–-Eleanor Rigby ringtone would you believe?--and he becomes quite animated. “All right.
All right! Many dead in Komura district, so very many more reports needed! Damn Japanese preservationists want ancient neighborhoods saved. History, don’t you know?
A history of toothpicks!”
I hand him the strap. He glances at it and flings it
into the clutter.
Labels: Japanese
