Treat Bags, Toys & Free BeerMy wife and I walked through the sliding glass storefront doors, our kids not trailing us so much as swarming around us like a nebulous cloud of sweet-smelling humanity. The people working looked up, all of them at once, and greeted us with a rousing chorus of ‘Irrasshaimase~!’ A young girl with a pony tail as crisp as her white blouse and black skirt ensemble walked over, bent slightly at the waist in that subtle and ubiquitous display of deference, and offered us a string of niceties like flower petals laid out at our feet.
Japanese hospitality never gets old.
Her beaming smile was genuine and steady and, outside of
a rare attribute for 8 bucks an hour. She continued her bowing, bobbing show of
polished civility as she led us to our table. Not waiting for us to be seated,
she produced out of nowhere a pristine faux-leather-bound menu and proceeded to
ask us what we would like to drink. Japan
My boys shouted in tandem – ‘Melon soda!’ – and headed for the foam-padded play area in the corner. Their little sister followed, focused only on the red slide. My wife asked our waitress something about tea. I stood next to her, looking around at the other people sitting and drinking at their tables, and wondered what the hell was going on.
I’d never been to a car dealership in
I now go to them every weekend. Japan