Friday, October 21, 2011

Japan Journifications, Ear/Eye Hustles & Such


Eye Hustle
120-150 yen please

This is how it starts. You have no idea what the words say you just know you want a drink. You have no clue what the flavors are. You just know you want a drink. You have no idea if you’ve got the right amount of change you just know the small can with the bright orange letters looks like it MIGHT taste like an American orange dream icicle. You have no idea what the words say but you know coffee seems to mean coffee in this machine. You know tea seems to mean tea. You know Coca Cola seems to mean Coca Cola even though it's purple. You know the picture of an apple looks like it must be a picture of an apple. Of course. And a cute hamster is just a cute hamster that has nothing to do with a drink. You hope...and if you find out there's some new drink called "hamster-aid" written in Japanese...you just hope you find out years later.

This is how it started for me. I noticed on nearly every corner of Japan there were vending machines filled with beveragical assortments. I realize beveragical is not a word but I honestly can’t think of any other word that quite gets you to get where I’m coming from. It’s like beveragearama or bevefreenzy. Bevafuckinfantastical. The amazing part is the machine keeps the cold drinks cold and the hot drinks hot and some of the cold drinks double as hot drinks.

That’s how it continued. And who would have known a simple vending machine would help to break down my walls of distrust. Because if I can just pick and choose any drink—without knowing what it tastes like or knowing what it’s made from—I can learn to trust humans again. I can begin telling secrets again. I can trust myself on the train alone. Hell, I might even befriend Pinocchio. 


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