One Day in Akihabara
As usual, it was a laid-back day at work. This is one of a handful of konbeno still left in the area. We still got a steady stream of old people as customers, mostly obaasans. As our customer base died off, maybe this store would close. Maybe a different one would. Most people, of course, order everything online and get it delivered. It was kind of funny, these vulnerable old ladies with their pensions carried in cash, just like the old days, walking to a store. Meanwhile a healthy young man like me hardly left the house except to go to work. I really didn't get it
The bell rang. I said "Irrashaimase" like a good employee. Some people who were working because of getting in trouble, as was my case, would be sullen or something. But I think being on my best behavior is the key to turning life around, now that I'm no longer immature. I mean, just look around. Mediocrity was the default option, for most of the world, it seemed to me, unless you pulled your head out of your ass and took a look at your life. Like the Tigers, Japan had long ago given up on the notion of being important, especially compared to neighboring China. Of course, the Chinese had their own issues these days.
Anyway, the old lady that came in - I suppose she's the kind of old lady you'd describe as "cute." Her shopping bag said "A Smile is a More Important Gift Than You Think." Her eyes were kind of reddish, so maybe she was albino. I think they used to go blind but modern medicine probably fixed that. She did give me a big smile and, in fact, gave one to the customer who'd been reading the magazines (we carried five or so) but went out as she went in.
She wasn't hunched over like some old women - her posture was pretty good, like she'd been a model or something, even though she must have been too short for that. Something about her red eyes and the smile thing reminded me of someone my parents and grandparents talked about once. Back when there was less specialization, stables of girls (in Japan, mostly girls, anyway) were "discovered" and trained to do singing, dancing, acting, and so on. That's those "idols" your grandparents followed. Anyway, I guess she was a little scandalous over something - drugs or adultery, maybe. Or maybe she was the one that married another girl in her idol group. None of which is a big deal nowadays.
Before I had to leave high school, I had to do a report on the Ainu, how there aren't many full-blooded Ainu left - probably none at all - and how they keep their culture and traditions alive, and so on. It's kind of like that with idols. People still keep it going, but the world has moved on.
She looked at her list and adjusted her shopping bag. Then she turned to me, at the counter, and gave a warm smile. "Hello, young man, I hope you are having a good day."
My generation really isn't into smiling. But I gave it a shot. "It's a fine day, okyakusama, so naturally I am enjoying it, thank you for asking. Can I help you with anything?"
"Ara,' she said, "so polite. Well, I need ingredients for a pasta and I think a couple of things were moved around?"
In fact, we had moved the vegetable bins to the back of the shop. I showed her where they were, and on an impulse, I asked: "Forgive the rudeness, okyakusama, but are you a person that was an entertainer, perhaps a while ago?"
She was surprised obviously, but not shocked. "A while, indeed …," she said. "It has been so long. But now I am just Nishikino-obaasan." She said that name with real pride. I think the Nishikino family owns a couple of hospitals in this area, so maybe that makes them famous with old people. They were once pretty powerful, according to my parents, but the Nishikino matriarch and patriarch's only daughter didn't take over the main hospital, and some of their wealth dissipated. I wish remembering school topics was as easy as all the stories my parents and grandparents tell me. Maybe I should have a career doing oral history? Anyway, if this was a genuine Nishikino, maybe it was the daughter herself? I think my parents said she was an idol or something like it.
Since I didn't say anything, she went on. "In my day, I was the number one idol in the universe, young man, and if you disagreed, you had only to ask … me!" She laughed. "Now, I am going to show you just how silly we were in those days."
She was still very athletic, surprisingly. Suddenly she crouched a bit and made little devil hooks with her hands. "Nico Nico-nii!" Shifting her hands into a heart shape: "Anata no Heart ni Nico Nico-nii!" One hand went to her head: "Egao todokeru Yazawa Nico Nico!" and with the hooks again: "Nico-nii te oboeteru Love Nico!" - at that point, she bowed and her smile was more like a smirk, which is disconcerting in an old lady.
Suddenly I flashed on a memory. I don't think I was in primary school yet. Watching a video that my parents had - I remembered this exact act. "Ah! I remember this from a video when I was small. So you're the idol that married another idol in her group?" That was pretty rude. I was surprised at myself, especially since I had pledged to myself I would be cool and composed from now on.
But she wasn't offended. "Yep. That's why I am a Nishikino, now. I guess we stirred up quite a fuss at the time. Young man, doesn't it seem silly now?" She didn't look me in the eye, as she was putting her note in her pocket and opening her bag. But then she did look up.
I agreed it was very silly, and said my parents had supported her. She gave me one of her warm smiles. Really, a cute old lady who spread cheer, that was her. "Oh, I better get going if I want to ride back before sunset."
She came back fairly quickly, and luckily, we'd had tomatoes on the vine for sale, and they looked very nice.
As I was ringing her modest purchases up, when it came to the tomatoes she said "When I saw these, I knew I had to get them, or Maki wouldn't … " and then, for no reason I could see, she froze. I hoped she was alright. After quite a while, she finished .. "wouldn't forgive me. Oh, Maki-chan." and suddenly she had tears in her eyes. But then she forced a smile, and sort of squared herself. "How much does it come to?"
After she paid, she turned to me. "Young man, I think you've seen my shopping bag, isn't it so?" I agreed I had. "Well, what is on that bag is all I have to pass on in terms of wisdom. I learned it from my father, and it was a hard lesson indeed. It's hard, even for me, to always remember it. Sometimes you have to force yourself to remember the precious, amazing gift you were given on a long, wonderful road, instead of dwelling on what got taken away at the end."
Her real smile came back with that, and she said "Thank you for talking with an old lady. I hope your day is wonderful, young man." she adjusted her shopping bag, and went towards the door.
"Ara," she said, talking to herself. "I suppose I did buy them for her, after all. It's not like I dislike them." And with that she left the konbeno.
This job, I think it'll be okay. The customers are interesting, and I think I kind of get, finally, why they shop like they do. It's not as efficient as shopping online, but it has its attractions.