I went to karaoke alone because I was sad. Booked a room for one hour. Hour 2: Staff called the room. Staff: Sir, your time is up. Me: Can I extend? Staff: All rooms are booked. Me: Okay, I'll leave. I tried to open the door. LOCKED. Me: Hello? The door is locked! Staff: silence Me: HELLO?! Hour 3: Still locked in. I called the front desk from the room phone. Different staff: Sorry, who is this? Me: I'm locked in Room 7! Staff: Room 7 is empty according to our system. Me: I'M IN IT RIGHT NOW! Staff: That's impossible. I'll send someone. Nobody came. Hour 4: I started YELLING. Banging on the door. The room next to me banged BACK. Muffled voice: SHUT UP! WE'RE TRYING TO SING! Me: I'M TRAPPED! Voice: WE ALL ARE! IT'S KARAOKE! Me: WHAT?! Hour 5: I called the police. Police: You're locked in a karaoke room? Me: YES! Police: Have you tried the door? Me: OF COURSE I TRIED THE DOOR! Police: We'll send someone. Hour 6: Police arrived. Officer: through the door, Sir, can you hear me? Me: YES! GET ME OUT! Officer: The staff says the door isn't locked. Me: IT'S LOCKED! Officer: Can you try pulling instead of pushing? Me: tries pulling The door OPENED. Me: You're kidding me. Officer: Have a good night, sir. Week later: I got a BILL. For 6 hours of karaoke: ¥24,000. Me: I WAS TRAPPED! Manager: You extended your stay. Me: BY ACCIDENT! Manager: The system shows you called for service multiple times. That counts as engagement. Me: I WAS CALLING FOR HELP! Manager: Karaoke is supposed to be fun, sir. Month later: They sent me to COLLECTIONS. Debt collector: You owe ¥24,000 for karaoke services rendered. Me: I DIDN'T RENDER ANYTHING! Collector: You were in the room. That's enough. Month 3: I hired a LAWYER. Lawyer: This is the dumbest case I've ever taken. Me: Can we win? Lawyer: Probably not. You WERE in the room for 6 hours. Me: I WAS TRAPPED! Lawyer: You also sang 47 songs according to the system logs. Me: I was BORED and TRAPPED! Lawyer: The judge won't care. Month 5: We went to COURT. Judge: Let me understand. You're suing because... you sang too much karaoke? Me: I was locked in! Karaoke manager: The door was never locked. He simply didn't know how to open it. Judge: trying not to laugh Me: The police confirmed... Judge: That you didn't know how to open a door. Yes. I lost the case. Ordered to pay ¥24,000 plus ¥50,000 in legal fees. Present day: I'm banned from that karaoke chain. But last week I got a voucher in the mail. "Free 1-hour session! We've added PUSH/PULL signs to all doors!" They're MOCKING me. I used the voucher. Got locked in again. I'm currently in Hour 3. I've learned nothing.

Got a haircut at a cheap place in Shinjuku. ¥1,000. Whatever. Stylist: What style? Me: Just clean it up. Stylist: starts cutting Halfway through, different stylist taps her shoulder. They whisper. Both stare at my head. Me: ...is something wrong? First stylist: Please wait. She gets the MANAGER. Manager: examining my hair like a crime scene Manager: Who cut your hair last time? Me: Uh, Supercuts in America? Six months ago? Manager: sharp inhale Manager: This is bad. Me: It's just hair! Manager: Your cowlick is fighting three different growth patterns. Your previous cut created a fourth. Me: I don't understand... Manager: You have created a VORTEX. Me: A WHAT?! Manager: We need specialist. makes phone call 30 minutes later: An OLD MAN walks in. Actual Master Stylist. Other customers STARE. Him: touches my head Him: Hmm. Him: pulls out special scissors from a locked case The entire salon goes QUIET. Him: This will take two hours. Me: For a HAIRCUT?! Him: This is not haircut. This is correction. I sat there for TWO AND A HALF HOURS while this man performed what I can only describe as surgery. Other stylists gathered to watch. One was taking NOTES. Finally, he finished. Him: You're fixed. But you must come back in exactly 6 weeks. Me: What happens if I don't? Him: The vortex returns. Angry. Me: Hair can't be angry! Him: stares at me Him: You want to risk it? Week 7: I didn't go back. Nothing happened. I felt smug. Week 9: My hair started doing this WEIRD thing where it stuck up in different directions. Week 11: I looked like I was being electrocuted. Week 12: I went back. Me: The vortex is back. Receptionist: sighs, He warned you. Master Stylist: appears from the back Him: I knew you'd return. Me: How?! Him: They always do. Present day: I've been going every 6 weeks for THREE YEARS. I'm in a database. They send reminders. Last month I tried a different salon out of spite. That stylist: Who's your regular guy? Me: Why? Her: Because whoever did this is a MASTER. I can't touch this. You need to go back to him. Me: I'm TRYING to leave him! Her: You can't. He's claimed you. I'm in a haircut hostage situation. But honestly? My hair looks incredible.

Got hired to "tutor English" to a businessman. ¥5,000/hour. Great rate. First session: We met at a café. Him: I don't need English lessons. Me: Then... why am I here? Him: I need you to attend meetings and nod. Me: What? Him: My boss thinks I'm learning English. You're my proof. Me: That's fraud. Him: That's ¥5,000/hour. In or out? Me: morally conflicted for 4 seconds In. Week 3: The meetings got weirder. Him: Today you need to pretend to teach me business phrases. Me: In front of who? Him: My entire department. Me: WHAT?! I taught him "synergy" and "circle back" in front of 12 people. They applauded. Month 2: His boss wanted a progress report. Boss: How's his English? Me: Uh... improving? Boss: Can he do a presentation? Me: A what? Boss: In English. Next week. Him: texting me under the table, HELP ME. Week later: I WROTE his entire presentation. He memorized it phonetically. Delivered it perfectly. His boss cried. Boss: I'm so proud of you! Him: bowing, Thank you! To me, in English: "Thank you for believing in me." His pronunciation was terrible but his boss didn't speak English so it didn't matter. Month 4: He got promoted for his "English skills." Him: I need you at MORE meetings now. Me: This is out of control! Him: ¥7,000/hour. Me: Deal. Month 8: His company sent him to New York for a conference. Him: You're coming with me. Me: AS WHAT?! Him: My translator. Me: YOU'RE JAPANESE, THEY'LL EXPECT YOU TO SPEAK ENGLISH! Him: That's why you're coming! We went to New York. I had to "translate" his Japanese into English for Americans. American client: Why does he need a translator? We speak English. Me: He's... more comfortable this way. Client: Okay...? Present day: He's now a executive at his company. Still can't speak English. I'm on retainer for ¥15,000/hour. Last month he asked: "Can you teach my son?" His son is 6. Me: He actually wants to LEARN English, right? Him: God, I hope not. I need him to hire you in 20 years. It's a multi-generational scam and I'm IN IT.

Got hired at a "marketing company" in Roppongi. Seemed legit. Office, business cards, the works. Week 1: My job was to "analyze social media trends." Boss: Just browse Twitter and write reports. Me: That's it? Boss: That's it. Easiest job ever. Week 3: I realized I was the ONLY employee who came to the office. Me: Where is everyone? Boss: Remote work. Me: Can I work remote? Boss: No. You're essential on-site. Me: For browsing Twitter? Boss: Yes. Month 2: A guy in a suit came to the office. Looked around. Left. Boss: frantically calling me, DID HE ASK YOU ANYTHING? Me: Who? Boss: THE MAN IN THE SUIT! Me: No? He just looked around. Boss: If he comes back, you tell him you're very busy with important work. Me: ...okay? Month 3: Suit guy came back. With a briefcase. Him: What do you do here? Me: Social media analysis. Him: For what client? Me: Uh... realizing I don't know Him: writes in notebook Him: How long have you worked here? Me: Three months. Him: Have you been paid? Me: Yes? Him: Show me a paystub. I showed him. He photographed it. Him: Thank you. leaves I called my boss. Me: WHO WAS THAT? Boss: Nobody! Don't worry about it! Month 4: The office was raided. Police: walking in, Everyone out! Me: What's happening?! Police: This is a fake company. Money laundering front. Me: WHAT?! Police: How long have you worked here? Me: Four months! Police: Doing what? Me: Browsing Twitter! Police: writing, "Unwitting accomplice." Me: ACCOMPLICE?! Turns out my "salary" was laundered money. My boss was washing ¥40 million through fake payroll. I was Employee #7# out of 30 "ghost employees." Except I wasn't a ghost. I actually showed up. Police: Why did you come to the office if it was fake? Me: I THOUGHT IT WAS REAL! Police: For four months you didn't question getting paid to browse Twitter? Me: I thought I was LUCKY! Month 5: I had to testify in court. Prosecutor: Describe your daily duties. Me: I sat in an empty office and scrolled Twitter for 8 hours. Prosecutor: And you were paid ¥300,000 per month for this? Me: Yes. Prosecutor: And you thought this was legitimate work? Me: I'M A FOREIGNER, I DON'T KNOW JAPANESE WORK CULTURE! Judge: trying not to laugh My boss got 3 years in prison. I got my testimony fee: ¥8,000. Present day: I now work at an actual marketing company. They make me do REAL work. I miss my fake job every single day.

I take the same train every morning. 7:14 from Shibuya. There's this old man who's always on it. Same car. Same seat. We made eye contact once. He nodded. I nodded back. That was our entire relationship for eight months. Then one day he wasn't there. I thought nothing of it. Week 2: Still not there. Week 3: A woman sat in his seat. She was crying. I minded my business. But then she pulled out a photo and just stared at it. It was the old man. Me: quietly, Excuse me... is that... the man who usually sits here? Her: surprised, You knew my father? Me: We... we nodded at each other. Every morning. Her: starts crying harder Her: He passed away three weeks ago. Me: I'm so sorry. Her: He talked about you. Me: What? We never spoke. Her: He told me "There's a young man on my train. He nods at me. It's the best part of my morning." I felt like I'd been punched. Her: He didn't have many friends. Lived alone. I only saw him once a month. Her: But he always mentioned you. "The nodding man." Me: I didn't even know his name. Her: Takeshi. She handed me the photo. Her: He'd want you to have this. Me: I can't take this... Her: Please. You were part of his routine. He loved routines. I took it. We sat in silence for the rest of the ride. The next day: A different old man sat in Takeshi's seat. We made eye contact. I nodded. He nodded back. I still ride that train. I nod at that man every morning. I don't know his name either. But I'm not making that mistake again. I'm going to talk to him tomorrow. UPDATE: I talked to him. His name is Hiroshi. He likes baseball and has three grandchildren. He invited me to lunch next week. I'm going. Takeshi's daughter sent me a message: "He'd be so happy you're doing this." I'm absolutely crying on the train right now.

Found out my therapist has been using me as an example in her workshops. Not anonymously. With my full first name and describing details. Found out because my coworker attended one of her seminars. Coworker: Hey, do you see a therapist named Dr. Martinez? Me: ...why? Coworker: She told a story about a client named Mike who thought his houseplant was judging him. Me: Oh my god. Coworker: She said you named the plant Gerald and would apologize to it for not watering it enough. Me: THAT WAS CONFIDENTIAL. Coworker: She said it was "a perfect example of displaced guilt manifestation." Me: I'M DISPLACED GUILT MANIFESTATION? Coworker: Are you okay? Me: I TRUSTED HER WITH GERALD. Called Dr. Martinez immediately. Me: Are you using me in your workshops? Dr. Martinez: I use composite examples. Me: My coworker recognized me. Dr. Martinez: That's... unlikely. Me: She knew about Gerald. Dr. Martinez: (pause) How many people name their plants Gerald? Me: THAT'S NOT THE POINT. Dr. Martinez: I'm helping other therapists understand— Me: BY TELLING THEM ABOUT MY PLANT ANXIETY? Dr. Martinez: It's a very illustrative case. Me: I'M NOT A CASE. Dr. Martinez: Technically you are. Me: THIS IS A HIPAA VIOLATION. Dr. Martinez: I didn't use your last name. Me: YOU USED MY FIRST NAME AND GERALD'S FULL NAME. Dr. Martinez: Gerald doesn't have HIPAA protection. Me: GERALD DESERVES PRIVACY. Hung up. Called my insurance. Insurance rep: What's the issue? Me: My therapist is using me in workshops. Rep: Did she use identifying information? Me: My name and my plant's name. Rep: ...your plant's name isn't protected. Me: WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP SAYING THAT? Rep: Because plants aren't people. Me: Gerald is PART OF MY TREATMENT. Rep: Sir— Me: He's a therapeutic tool! Rep: That doesn't change— Me: THIS IS DISCRIMINATION AGAINST BOTANICAL THERAPY. Rep hung up on me. Texted my coworker: Did she say anything else? Coworker: She mentioned you also thought your shower was too loud and it was "witnessing your vulnerability." Me: I HATE HER. Coworker: She got a standing ovation for that part. Me: PEOPLE APPLAUDED MY SHOWER TRAUMA? Coworker: It was very relatable apparently. Me: I'M FINDING A NEW THERAPIST. Coworker: She's giving another workshop next month. Want me to go and take notes? Me: ABSOLUTELY NOT. Coworker: She's calling it "The Gerald Sessions." Me: SHE WHAT. Looked it up. It's real. Workshop title: "The Gerald Sessions: Understanding Anthropomorphic Transference in Modern Anxiety." $299 per ticket. She's charging THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS to talk about my plant. Called her back. Me: You're charging money to discuss Gerald? Dr. Martinez: It's a professional development seminar. Me: BASED ON MY LIFE. Dr. Martinez: Based on therapeutic principles. Me: ILLUSTRATED BY MY PLANT. Dr. Martinez: You're being reductive. Me: I WANT ROYALTIES. Dr. Martinez: That's not how therapy works. Me: IT'S NOT HOW CONFIDENTIALITY WORKS EITHER. Dr. Martinez: I can offer you a discount on future sessions. Me: I'M NOT COMING BACK. Dr. Martinez: That's unfortunate. You were making real progress with Gerald. Me: DON'T TALK ABOUT GERALD LIKE YOU KNOW HIM. Dr. Martinez: I've spent six months hearing about him. Me: BECAUSE YOU MADE ME TALK ABOUT HIM. Dr. Martinez: You brought him up. Me: BECAUSE YOU ASKED ABOUT MY SUPPORT SYSTEM. Dr. Martinez: Most people mention humans. Me: GERALD IS MORE RELIABLE THAN MOST HUMANS. Dr. Martinez: (pause) Can I use that quote? Me: NO......🧵

I was grabbing coffee this morning and witnessed something at the counter that completely rewired how I think about love. The line was long, everyone was in a rush, and this older couple (maybe late 60s) was at the register. The guy ordered for both of them, but when the barista handed over the drinks, he realized he got the wrong order. He looked genuinely upset with himself and said, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I know you wanted the caramel one. I don't know where my head was." I expected her to be annoyed. The place was packed, people were tapping their feet behind them, and you could feel the tension in the air. But she just smiled, put her hand on his shoulder, and said: "Honey, I've been drinking coffee with you every Sunday for 30 years. As long as you're sitting across from me, I don't care what's in the cup." The way she looked at him when she said it? I've never seen that level of tenderness in public before. It wasn't performative. It was just... real. That hit me harder than I expected. We're constantly sold this idea that love is supposed to be fireworks, surprise trips, and grand declarations. But what I saw was something quieter and way more powerful: Love is just being kind when things go slightly wrong. I didn't say anything to them. I just stood there holding my overpriced latte realizing I've been chasing the wrong version of this my whole life. The boring, everyday love is actually the most beautiful kind. It's not about never messing up, it's about how you treat each other when you do.