As if the Turning Point Exam last April wasn’t enough of a clue, I got another clue today that I’ve graduated into Japanese middle age.
Walking home from lunch, I saw two high school students walking their bikes up the hill near my house. One laughed and opened a couple of those prize-filled globes that you buy from bubblegum machines. Then he threw the hemispheres on the sidewalk.
I was outraged. How dare he litter my neighborhood? I stood in the path of his bicycle and stopped him.
“Sumimasen ga…” I pointed at his trash and paused to conjure up the right words in Japanese.
“Eh? Excuse me?” he answered in English before I could say anything else.
“You dropped something. You should pick it up.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He called to his friend to wait for him as we marched over to his trash.
“This is my neighborhood. I like to keep it neat.” I tossed two clear plastic tops into his bike basket as he picked up the colored bottom halves.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s better.” I smiled and went on my way.
I totally rained on his toy parade, but I’ll bet he doesn’t do that again soon. Confronted by a middle aged gaijin lady! The shame, the shame.
