Before I quit my job, one day I got on the morning train as usual. I managed to get a seat at my stop, and at the next stop, much like every morning, the girl I’ve nicknamed Slim (originally, she was Skinny, but I like Slim better) was one of the first on the train; her good timing and her Kate Moss-esque body volume usually allow her to find a place to sit. This morning, she took a seat next to me.
Then, something unusual happened.
Another black guy came onto the train. Why is this unusual, you ask? Well, black folks in Japan are rare, period. Having two randomly be in the same place at the same time, and not have anything to do with rap/hip hop or basketball, is kind of like winning the lottery twice. Black Dude #2 takes a seat next to Slim. …In case you haven’t figured it out by now, this makes Slim the cream in a black man Oreo. And while there are many Japanese women who would LOVE to be in this position (I’ve seen the videos…), not Slim apparently, as not long after BD#2 sits down…Slim got up and changed seats.
I suppose the double concentration of Gaijin Perimeter was just too strong for her.
Japanese people do sometimes change seats if they notice one person in a couple has managed to get a seat but the other hasn’t. I don’t think she thought that was the case here though. I’d never seen this guy before, he’d never seen me before, and aside from the obligatory Black Recognition Nod*, we made no signs of knowing each other. She was clearly just uncomfortable being sandwiched between so much raw, sexual power, that she had to change her seats. Or she thought we were both going to carry her off the train and murder her. Whatever.
It was kind of funny to see; BD#2 moved next to me and acknowledged it. “Man, she got up and moved in a hurry, huh?” We both had to just laugh about it. Gaijin Super Powers strike again.
*Some of you may be unfamiliar with the Black Recognition Nod, so please allow me to explain it. Basically, its a gestural greeting acknowledging the presence of another black person. It can be non-verbal, but it doesn’t have to be. For us males, it usually involves a slight head nod. “S’up” may accompany the gesture, but it is optional. I’m not sure what the female version is, but I imagine its something similar.
Though I can’t say this concretely, I believe the Black Recognition Nod only happens in situations where black folks are few and far between. So basically, everywhere except Africa and the American south. My university had only like 6 black people total (Asians actually outnumbered whites!), so the BRN was very prevalent. At first, I didn’t understand it either…
Asian Friend: Hey, do you know that guy?
Me: Not at all.
AF: Then why did you nod to each other?
Me: I suppose because we’re the only black people here? I don’t get it though, why are we doing this? Just because our skin color happened to be black? I don’t know that guy anymore than I know all the Asian and occasionally white people passing by me now, why did I have to nod to him? It’s kind of silly, isn’t it?
But as the years passed, I’ve been getting more in touch with my funky soul. It’s buried deep beneath layers of Dick Van Dyke show reruns and watching Gallagher smash watermelons and actually laughing at it…but its there. I find as I get older, I get closer to it. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll even like fried chicken. But anyway, closer to graduation, the above conversation became…
Asian Friend: Hey, do you know that guy?
Me: First time I’ve ever seen him in my life.
AF: Then why’d you nod to each other.
Me: Ah…my Asian friend…you just don’t understand. We’re brothers man.
AF: You are?
Me: In spirit, yes. We may have never met before, we understand each other plight, we’ve walked down the same road, we’ve cried the same tears when the Raiders didn’t make the playoffs again.
AF: I don’t get it at all.
Me: When you have your culture and your women stolen from you by the white man, then one day you too will understand.
AF: ….Allrighty then. I can’t speak about the culture, but I could tell you a thing or two about the white man stealing our women.
Me: …Point taken.
I’m not sure if the Black Recognition Nod exists among other races, you’ll have to tell me about that. While anyone not obviously Asian is in the definite minority in Japan, I can’t say I’ve ever seen the White Recognition Nod or the Mexican Recognition Nod (actually, I can’t remember the last time I saw a Mexican…), but in Japan all foreigners seem to secretly hate each other anyway (what’s up with that?) so I can’t use my experiences as a basis.
While I’m thinking about them, some updates on my Train Crew.
Missing In Action: Wreck-Gar, Massive Melon Tits, Tats. I’d see MMT every once in a while…maybe once a month or so. So I’m really not sure what she’s up to. At one point I thought she’d graduated from university, but if she’s working then she wasn’t riding my train, and if she was working, why did I still see her from time to time? Yet another for the Unsolved Mysteries file. This is what happens when she’s not around; I don’t get to gaze upon her magnificent chest so my brain is forced to actually think about things. Tats I haven’t seen in a while…don’t know what happened to her. So I’ll never have an answer to what the tattoo was, and where she was going every morning.
As its summer, Sub-Zero hasn’t worn the face mask in a while. …He’s still Sub-Zero though. Now he’s just the Mortal Kombat 3 version.
Shorty bites her fingers. I sat next to her one day and noticed that her fingers were all chewed up. So, that’s kind of nasty. I had thought that she was kind of cute, but I dunno…I lose desire towards women who are prone to bite on long slender objects that they put into their mouth. Wonder why…
Brandy still rode the train regularly up until when I quit my job. She’s still an expensive cutie. Except now I’m really poor, so that fantasy becomes about as plausible as a threesome with Jessica Alba and Scarlet Johannesson. Oh well…we’ll always have Louis Vuitton?
I actually saw Misty one day. It was on a late train coming home, and I happened to notice her getting off the train at the same time I did. …Yep, still looks like a Gorilla. Although this time, she was in her casual clothes. When I saw her in the morning, it seemed like she was going off to a job, so she was always dressed professionally. Not this time. She just looked like an awful mess. Like Tarzan had rushed her shit down in the jungle somewhere. Or as if Wreck-Gar and a gorilla had made passionate love and Misty here was the result.
Oh, and in the spirit of Misty, one last new player – a woman with a face that…well….there’s no better way to put it – she had a very canine face. She just looked like a dog. So I named her Augie Doggy Mommy. She was a train regular, and I guess its good that I quit my job when I did – after all, if my perverted brain did stray to think about hot gorilla sex with Misty, there’s no telling what sort of dastardly doggie dubiousness I would have dreamed up with Augie Doggy Mommy.
Come to think of it, now that I no longer ride the train. I have to wonder if the Train Crew is wondering about me in the same way that I wonder about them? “Hey, that big black guy who rode the train everyday with us isn’t here anymore. I wonder what happened to him? Did he go back to his home country? Get arrested for rape/murder?” If anything, they’re probably just happy that a whole two seats have opened up on the train.
I’m seriously considering just riding the train one day to see how everyone is doing. …How sad is that?