I've long since become used to the total abuse and bastardization of the English language in Japan. Particularly, rarely am I shocked anymore by the silly slogans and grotesque grammar plastered across so many pop t-shirts. Too many to name, such witless and quasi-sensible blurbs would only draw ridicule in any English-speaking nation. As I said, rarely am I blown. But this morning's t-shirt took the cake:
On the train to work, I spot a young (Japanese) guy with a white tee with a big, black letter "I," followed by a red heart, placed over a baby blue jersey-scripted word, "GHETTO" = "I LOVE GHETTO" wtf.
Maybe I blinked once or twice when I saw the shirt. It was hard for me to muster a facial reaction, as I've become so de-sensitized to such absurdities. I looked at the guy's face, and he looked like a person who had utterly no clue what the words scrolled across his chest meant. What could this guy possibly know about a ghetto, not to mention "love" about one? I come from a city full of them, and I don't even love the ghetto. I mean, I liked Good Times and all, and I love Black people, but I ain't never claimed to love no ghetto. Sheesh.
There should be a law against the inanity which abounds across some of these Japanese t-shirts. Who makes this stuff? They need to be taken somewhere and...have something not nice done to them.
And yesterday on the ride home from school, I saw a couple of my former students who are now first-year students in high school (sophomores), Misuzu and Mayumi. I said hello and chatted to them a bit about school and things. They said they were headed in the city to "have fun" at Nagoya Station. I asked them were they going
to go shopping and they just giggled, confirming that they indeed were. I asked them did they have money and they said yes. They're too young to work, so I asked them where they got their money. From their moms, of course. I looked over and noticed Misuzu was wearing a giant blue wriststrap with some bold, white characters written on it. I studied it for a second. It read "SEX POT." omg.
At first I was going to ask her did she know the meaning of her wrist band and what it implied, but I decided to leave it alone. I wanted to ask her "Did your Mama give you money to buy that, too?" She probably would've answered "Yes." In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if her mother bought it for her. (yikes!) I looked to my right and noticed the train conductor standing over in his little booth looking at me with a disgusted look on his face. Now, I've never claimed to be a mind reader, but I'm pretty good when it comes to reading body language. And the conductor's face was saying "I'm really disgusted this foreigner is trying to pick up these high school girls." That may sound presumptive, but as I said, I interpret facial expressions pretty well. I knew his thoughts And that was the one he was giving me.
Please. Just because the teen sex industry is massive in Japan, doesn't mean that's the way I get down. Slow your roll, homie.
(insert silly slogan here)...
