. . . come again some other day.

Today the torrential rains from the coming typhoon started, so I decided to take the bus home. As I waited at the stop near the school, one of the women who works in the office joined me under the awning. We gave each other the acknowledging bow and smile we usually do when we pass in the hall. I noticed one of her bags had a map of London on it, and I decided to try some small talk in Japanese.

“Bags, are from London?” I asked gesturing toward them.

“Yes,” she said, “One is a gift from my mother and the other is from one of the teachers at school.”

“Oh, of the teachers, yes.”

“Have you ever been to London?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I answered, adding a very long thinking pause. “Hmm, just a moment,” I added as I tried to put my next sentence together. “Job. Before. Flight attendant. I went to London.”

“Oh, did you work for American Airlines?”

“No, Northwest Airlines. It was fun.”

And then, thank God, the bus came and saved me from uttering anymore horrible Japanese to this polite woman. After getting off at my stop, I waited for the light to change so I could cross the street. I looked at the people waiting to cross on the other side, with their big Japanese umbrellas and felt a little embarrassed and wet with my small, American, purse umbrella. Catching me completely by surprise, a car zoomed by a little close to the shoulder, sending a literal wave of water across my body. Laughing as I sloshed back to my apartment, I thought about how it was supposed to rain for the next 3 days straight.