English spoken here

As I was walking to the grocery store tonight, I noticed another non-Asian woman getting into her car. Now, you have to understand that in the city this isn’t that odd of an occurrence, but out here it’s a different story. I would have sworn that there were only 3 of us (there’s another guy at work who lives in town with his wife). So I have to plead guilty to staring and hoping against hope that she spoke some language I speak. Turns out she’s American – from Portland – and we promptly exchanged phone numbers. Visions of cozy little dinners and exploring trips started dancing through my head!

Then I made the mistake of asking her if she knew where I could get Japanese language lessons. She looked at me like I have a hole in my head and launched into a rant worthy of the Rantmaster himself. Turns out she hates the Japanese (men in particular – although to be fair, it could have been all men regardless of race), can’t stand living here, and loathes Japanese food. Why, you may ask, is she here then? I don’t know. The only answer I was offered is that her son came over here so she did too. Me, I’m guessing the son ran half-way around the world to escape mom and is vastly disappointed that mom followed. But that’s just my personal opinion.

So I’ll probably end up having dinner with her at some point (note that we exchanged phone numbers BEFORE the rant started), but on the whole I’ll stick with the grandma who runs the produce stand down the street – she at least smiles and bows at me with great cheerfulness.