Blimp

I pointed out the blimp in the sky. “I haven’t seen it for a few years,” I said. Katie was very excited. It turned upside down. “That’s not right,” I thought. It started to plummet. “RUN,” I shouted. I jumped into the pool. It exploded when it crashed. We were close. Black engulfed the city. I jumped into the pool as it came over. I didn’t know how long I would have to hold my breath for.

Touring the Pillowman

We were in Kobe touring The Pillowman. 

Shinako had to go into work, so I needed something to do. I thought, “I’m in Kobe. What the hell, I’ll climb Mt Fuji.”

I biked up through the back streets to where the track started. It wasn’t very well-marked. I ran up the mountain. I wanted to get done by the time Shinako had finished work. It was a clear, blue day. I could see Yokohama Tower on one side, and Tokyo buildings on the other. I called down to Katie that she should join me, “It’s amazing. You can even see the lifts on Yokohama Tower. They’re the fastest in the world.”

“We’re in Kobe,” she said, “I’d rather be protesting while I have the chance.”

“Suit yourself,” I said.

I was the only person on the mountain. When I arrived at the summit I called down to Shinako. “Hello!” I waved, “I made it. I love you.”

“Hi! Come down safely,” she called back.

I started running back down. My run turned into a slide. It was very fast. There were times when I nearly flew off corners, and plummeted down cliffs. It was scary, but invigorating. I made it down in record time. I made it down to my bike, and rode down the sloped streets. I was going to buy a drink at a vending machine. I noticed that coca-cola were putting the prices up by 50 yen. I was thirsty, but decided to wait until I went to the cheaper supermarket, ‘My Basket’.

I met Stephan on the way to Shinako’s work. I told him how long it took me to get to the summit and back. He said that I averaged 18km per hour. “I didn’t realise that I was sliding so quickly,” I said. We watched the most dangerous highlights on DVD. There was one section where I had a beard and was hanging on to a root and laughing.

The Southern States

Shinako and I were on a road-trip through the USA. We had rented a camper-van. It was very old, but the rental agency installed an auto-pilot function. We were using said auto-pilot when we were travelling through the Southern States. There was something wrong with the wiring, and it lit on fire. We had seconds to evacuate the vehicle. We could not take anything with us. The whole camper-van went up in flames.

We were in a small town in South Carolina when it happened. There were many run-down houses. We knocked on the door of the least “white-trash” house of the nearest ones. It was unnecessary though; The whole town came out to see the debacle. It was, “the most ey-ex-sai’in thang to hay-pin in aowa liddle town.” We were instant celebrities. Everybody wanted to take our picture and invite us to their house for dinner.

The Jelly-man

Liam and I were rehearsing for our collaborative theatre show that was going to be performed at his house. We were in a mostly dark room, selecting actors for that day’s rehearsal. I was distracted, trying to find the light switches.

Near the end of the rehearsal, Liam said that he wanted to discuss one last thing. He brought in a coffin. Somebody had died the week before, and they were turned into a jelly version of themselves before being laid in the coffin. Liam opened the lid, and sure enough, there was a large jelly man. He said that somebody must pat it with a spoon before it could be buried. “It must be done within six days, or it will decompose and fall apart,” he said.

I took a spoon and patted the corpse. It wobbled. I didn’t like it, but as Yuka said, “it is a ritual in Japan.” When I patted its shoulders it put its wobbly hand up my shirt. It was cold and sticky. I did not like it.

The Baker’s Show

I passed by the Hungarian bakery in North Dunedin. It was next to the Inch bar, where Gorgie Pie used to be. The baker (who was a Greek-Japanese mix) asked, “Shinako-san?” I guess he had seen me in there with her before. I said that I was with Shinako, yes, and he gave me some tomatoes in buns with yellow pesto dipping sauce. They didn’t look great. They cost 1400円. 

I arrived at our loft with the low ceiling, and woke Shinako up. I told her that I was at the bakery, and that I picked up her horrible looking sandwiches. “Now we have to go to the baker’s show,” she said. 

We went to the baker’s show. It was a high-energy performance. They kept putting on rubber costumes, and jumping from one level to the next. Giant rubber dinosaurs jumped through trap doors, etc.  I told Shinako that it was terrible.

“Maybe if we understood Greek, it would be better,” she said. 

“There were no words in the play, and it was still terrible,” I said. 

Weed Killers

I was having a conversation with Angela. We talked about different weed-killers, and then about rides at Disneyland. I heard a groan. Michael came in. He looked shocked. He couldn’t talk. Somebody had chopped off both of his hands. They had stuck wire into the stumps. I didn’t know what to do. I went towards him. He backed away. 

Inari-zushi

The taxi that was to take Shinako, her mum, and me to the wedding venue had arrived. He was a very old Englishman who had a million wrinkles when he smiled. Shinako and her mum piled the taxi with clothes, and I sat the tupperware container filled with inari-zushi on my lap. I chatted with the driver for a long time. He seemed nice, if a bit sea-nile. I watched the price get higher and higher. He saw that I was nervous and told me not to worry, “The price will be different to that. I’ll give you a special rate.” That made me even more nervous; I like to know what I’m paying for what. 

Shinako and her mum got into the car about 15 minutes later. The conversation was nice, but the driver kept giving flirty compliments to Shinako. He seemed innocent enough, so I let it pass. There was a small video screen in the back of the taxi. We watched a scene from when we were kissing on the beach in our wedding clothes. I said that Shinako looked sexy. Her mum agreed.

“It is sexy,” she said, “It’s a lot of fun, but perhaps it’s a bit much. We don’t want aunt Rei to leave because of how racy you two are acting.”

“Or a male cousin going out to the toilets to masturbate,” said the taxi driver.

Awkward silence. 

“Let’s talk about this later,” mum said as she turned off the screen. 

We arrived at the venue. The first thing Shinako wanted to see was the cake. She was disappointed. It was just eight small pieces of sushi roll; four cucumber, and four salmon. 

Lion Coffee

Levi was playing with the clip that comes with Lion Coffee. I growled at him for playing with it. “It’s my clip. I wish you would leave it alone,” I said. I put clipped it back on the coffee bag in the cupboard.

The English Now Big Christmas Event

The ‘English Now Big Christmas Event’ was being held in a large amphitheater. 1000s of kids were in attendance. I was to perform in the show in front of everybody. The script was a mix of old Young Ones and Sesame Street episodes mixed together.

I had to invent a game on the spot. I had never invented a game for so many children before. I used soccer balls and chairs. There were just too many people, and the game failed horribly. Two teachers sneaked off to a love hotel, but everybody could see their silhouette in the window. I knew that they would be fired.

Makiko, Yuka and I could all fit into one of my old jackets.

I was in the Octagon. A bully was trying to steal my phone and camera.

I had a car that looked like a short, denim skirt. I kept forgetting that it actually was a car. I drove into a lot of shops. I was supposed to be on the ‘Dunedin Einstein Trail,’ but I never finished it. I got pulled over for drunk driving, then jailed for murder.

The Great Panther Race

The Great Panther Race was held every year. The start-line was in Mornington, and it finished in town. The most difficult stretch was through Mornington Park. I wanted to race the black panther when he came past (which he did every 45 minutes or so). I decided to take a different route to everybody else, and I announced it to everybody. People thought it was risky, but when the time came to race the phantom-like panther, even the panther thought it was an interesting choice. The panther won, obviously, but the crowd respected my efforts afterward.

I said that I would meet Jeff in the Octagon at 5:30, then we would both meet Shinako at the airport at 6. It was already 5:40, the London bus system in Mexico was complicated, and I was still looking for my locker.

I had put my red pack into a locker, but I couldn’t remember which street-corner the lockers were on. I found a set of lockers. I didn’t know if they were the right ones. I didn’t even know which locker was mine. I took a guess. The man who had rented the locker I was trying to open came to pick up his things. I explained to Mr Grump my situation. He said to try the one with the lock placed the wrong way around, and walked off with his box.

There was a half open locker next to the wrong-way-around-lock one. I opened it. My things were inside. I had thrown the lock in with my jacket and pack. I was lucky they weren’t stolen.

I took my things and walked in the direction that I thought the Octagon was in.

The pizza that I had bought and forgotten about had a cheese-cake crust, plenty of vegetables, and a potato top. I didn’t know that it had tiny sausages on it when I bought it. I realized that I couldn’t take it on the plane, and said so.

“You can take anything you want,” said Gwilym, “It’s Japan. They don’t check.”

“Still,” I said.

I broke the pizza into vague slices with my hands. Some Germans were passing by. I asked them if they would like some pizza.

“Do we have to eat it here?” one of them asked.

“No,” I told him, “You can do what you like.”

They stayed. The bigger of the two complained that they were changing the manufacturer of Guacamole at the airport.

“They have replaced their own homemade recipe with El Paso guac,” he said. “The airport  guacamole was an institution, and much beloved. El Paso is just corporate schmuck.”

Guacamole dripped on my head from a hole in the veranda ceiling. I was covered in guacamole, then hot cheese.

“I really must be in Mexico,” I laughed.

Kate came past and wanted a photograph. “Wait, wait, wait,” she said, “I need to get a photo.” And she did.