I was somewhere in Japan trying to go home. I remember being with mom and dad and Mutsumi at a bar. The owner was showing us his karaoke menu and presented us with a copy of a bill from a previous visit. The rest of this sequence seems lost and I next found myself on the road with two backpacks, one large, one small, at the bus stop in front of a family restaurant.
Mmmmm . . . frozen cow flesh prepared and served by freeters.
Checking the schedule, I found I had time for something to eat and so left my bags at the bus stop and went inside. The place was mostly empty. I sat in a corner and placed an order. I asked what time it was and found that I had missed my bus. I was upset. I wanted to get home, change out of my clothes and relax. I sat down again to wait for the next bus and was reading a newspaper when a group came in. The restaurant was empty but they sat down next to me. In fact, one woman sat so that her leg was touching mine. I became upset and asked why in this large, empty place she had to sit on me. The group moved off and one of the waitresses engaged me in a conversation about coffee. Didn't I have some? What did I think? Yes, they made some of the best coffee in the business. I checked the time and saw that the next bus would be arriving soon. I paid my bill and went out to the bus stop and found my bags missing, leading to a frantic search over several blocks. I returned depressed, unable to find them, only to discover that my bags had been moved into the restaurant by one of the employees. They had been there all along. If I had only thought to ask.