White Money Place

If you ask V, he will tell you that I can be a little bitchy sometimes. I prefer the word playful. One example of this was when V and I were on the elevator all by ourselves, going up, and as soon as we got to our floor I mischievously pushed every single button for every single floor above ours. Mature, I know. And then, because of course this would happen then, someone walked on to the elevator. 

Let me explain to you that I never see our neighbors, and as we all know I'm around the area enough to see just about anything as long as it's there to be seen. In fact, up until that moment I was convinced that V and I lived in the entire high rise alone, save for a snotty Japanese princess that lives on the top floor. Thanks to the button pushing incident I at least know that there is indeed another resident, maybe even one that lives next door to us. I also know that, thanks to me, this other resident got to visit 12 additional floors that day.

Like I said, I prefer the word playful. 

Normally an awkward interaction like this would cause me to run and hide and avoid the other person at all costs. But, because we live in Shirokanedai, "White Money Place", I think the people in our building probably need some fun in their lives- any fun in their lives. What could possibly be more fun than an impromptu elevator ride like in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, except minus that part where they burst out of the building?

When I tell people in Tokyo that I live in White Money Place they almost always respond similarly: "Ooooooooh." (Insert pause while they look me up and down and try to decide if I'm full of shit or if I really just dress this way.) "Fancy," they say, raising their eyebrows as they continue to look me up and down, "Do you have a really big place?"

I'm curious to know what exactly constitutes a really big place in Tokyo, anything larger than a cardboard box? I have seen homeless men in Ueno with bigger houses that mine. And safer. If there's an earthquake they don't have to worry about all the higher floors capsizing on top of them.

V keeps insisting that I need to see what a normal house in Tokyo looks like, probably so I will be less bitchy (playful) about it. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that showing me a closet and telling me it's a mansion isn't going to impress upon me how much space we have- it's just going to impress upon me that the sooner we get back to America the better. 

The only thing I know about our place in Shirokanedai is that the bathtub sings to you, there is a little animated asshole raccoon on the washer/dryer, and the toilet seat doubles as a rocket launcher. This is all very nice and all, but I don't take baths that much, as in never, and I want the raccoon to curl up and die, or, even better, actually dry something once and a while. Also, as unbelievable as this is, I don't have any deep-rooted desire to catapult myself into space any time soon either.

Elevator rides though, that's a different story.    

Comments

[keitorin]

I don't know about you, but I am ALLLL about rocketing into the cosmos via toilet bowl. Pretty much the shit.

Did you have fun in Yokohama today?

[ThePenguin]

Well come on, how big is your place then, to the nearest 100 square metres? I assume it at least has a separate servants' entrance?

(Also, what is an "asshole racoon"?)

[Aislin]

I'm pretty sure Brett and I's small one bedroom apartment is concidered big, even it's kitchen. Man I hate that kitchen. So the place we are moving into will most likely be concidered a huge place. But don't forget there are mexican families that move to the US and live more than one family to a one bedroom apartment. I guess it just comes down to, Americans like having space.

[pay cash advance]

OMG! Get a life. Poor little rich girl has share the top floor with another human being. Get over yourself.