As I type this, there is a sleeping or dead woman slumped in a comfy-cushy couch at the back corner of my local Starbuck’s.  Given that this is Japan, she could have taken her own life.  It happens all the time here.  Don’t let recent reports of madmen running over people and then slashing survivors to death fool you.  This is a country whose people hate life more than most any other country in the world.

I gotta give her her props.  She is dressed impeccably.  Again, this is Japan.  If you’re going to checkout, you might as well do so with a classic khaki Burberry trench coat draped over your torso and a large, black leather Gucci bag on your lap.  She still has yet to shift or open her eyes and I can’t really tell if she’s breathing or not.

The woman eating her muffin sitting in front of her is starting to get worried too.  I just saw her stuff the rest of her muffin in her mouth.  And this after eating it as daintily as if it were made with gold sprinkles.  It’s not becoming for a woman with such elegantly quaffed hair to shove food in her face.  She’s got Catherine Deneuve in The Hunger type hair, all back and up and interlaced like those inbred Mormon women who recently got back their six-toed kids back in Texas.  Jesus,  What a no win situation there.  Inbred kiddies either get sent back to certain molestation or live the rest of their adolescence in one foster home after another.

This being Tokyo, everyone here in the back room is especially quiet because of the sleeping/dead woman.  So polite.  What’s the logic here?  “Oh, let’s let her sleep in peace or drift off peacefully.”  I better got out of here before she turns blue.

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