Don't mind me tra la la la. Oh and after meditating I realized that Emma would be incorrect in Japanese so its Ema. Oops.

Taki- Egh same thing

Ema- Really…..Ms. Josie?

Me- Really mature…

Ema- Oh does it bother you *poke poke*

Me- Nope

Ema- Really? *suspicious look*

Me- Adding to dictionary now

Ema skips away smiling

Ema's POV

The light finally turns green and I can finally turn left into the parking lot of 'Omurice Diner". The place hasn't changed much in terms of decoration since it was established by my grandfather and his father in 1989. Pablo my stepfather, I term I rarely ever use has always wanted to add a Hispanic touch to the exterior but my grandfather refuses, after many arguments they finally came to a compromise.

I go to the back of the building were we share the parking space with a great number of other business.* For a city that is better known for its bikes and walking there sure is a lot of cars. As always the first thing that hits me when I exit the car is the wonderful aroma of….garbage. Piles and piles of garbage that splurges out of the dumpster. Yay.

I ignore it, and as always I try to ignore the fact that all our "dirty laundry" is in full view of some of all the residents that live in the back section of "Zurayas apartments". All 26 of them! The fact that Sano was one of them did not help at all.

"Ema!" Speak of the devil, I turn and see Sano going through a hole in the metal fence that separates us from them. A opening many use to get to the restaurant and oh my god who is that hot guy next to him? I instantly go to pat down my hair and modify my clothes because…. That helps….

"Sorry for stopping you, you must be in a rush."

The man next to him slightly bows, he must be what my sister calls 'real Japanese'.

"No not all." I say and imitate him, at the same time I try my best not to nervous laugh or shake as I usually do when anyone slightly good looking is near. It was easy with Sano because he was always Mizuki's other half, but I have no idea how she was able to attend a all-boys school. All boy school, all boy school I look at the man in the face and….young man about Sanos age that's obviously from Japan, tall and well built, obviously athletic…..

"Wait.." I say jumping back "you don't look like a monkey!" I shout. Wait OMG what did I just say.

"Ahh" he says snapping his fingers as if he too just recognized me "This must be Takis sister! Wow she is tiny! This whole time I was so confused because she got out of the left side of the car and I was like….wait…wait…in a America they drive on that side, right?" And as he says all this he uses more hand gestures than a ASL speaker. Trust me we get a big ASL crowd, he beats them.

Now I get why Julia called him a monkey. Oddly enough though I can't tell if I want to sock him or laugh. I turn to Sano and he just has an apologetic look, and I shrug showing that is ok. I'm not that sensitive about my looks. As a person with Turners Syndrome* I have been questioned my entire life about my appearance so I have learned to distinguish between simple curiosity and rudeness.

Finally, the door opens. I turn and see Juan, an overall average guy. He's about 5 feet 9 inches, he claims 11 but ok sure, and well his face is just average. He's not ugly but not he's not monkey man over here hot, unless you talk to his wife then he is Michael Angelo, and he's neither rude or a sweetheart.

"Oh hello Nakatsu, nice to meet you." He says in a better Japanese than me and as always Nakatsu is surprised. "What? Sano didn't tell you that the only person that DOESN'T speak Japanese here is the old man?" (My grandfather) "Oh and some American guy named Kenny, but there is a lot of things that Kenny can't do."

I try not to laugh. If Juan was average Kenny was….well he was Kenny. Juan won people over with a genuine smile, while Kenny had all but two emotions. And there where some customers that truly preferred that so, megh.

"Well he did, mention it." Nakatsu said looking at Sano who just shrugged.

The hallway from the backdoor to the office is not long, but it is crowded. Its full of shelfs of kitchen products and such. When we get there many of the staff are already there. The room isn't huge and its stacked with papers such as inventory, employee records etc but thanks to very long sleepless hours and the help of my loving family we have enough space so that my father Pablo, 5 waiter and waitress in their white button down and black pant uniform, and 2 hostess in their black dresses. Wait Taiwana!

I give her a warning look but the child is a little occupied drooling over our two guests. I'll talk to later, for sure, that dress is at least 3 inches higher than protocol.

"Ok" I say clearing my throat and manage to get everyone's attention, I stand as my father says 'center stage' basically we all stand in a circle and everyone faces me with a look of respect, something that's rare for a young, female, undereducated, minority like me. To make it worse I am only 4 feet 9 inches, 11 with heels.

But I am technically the owner of the place so, I stand up as straight as I can and try with all my might to live up to my title.

*why do I write about things I have no…like no idea about. I have 'been' to California but only due to layovers and so in lame terms I know nothing. When it comes to people with Turners Syndrome I did a google search and am reading the manga titled IS….but I have always been curious about the topic, so hopefully I do it justice. Oh and I also don't know that much about the Japanese community and how Japanese born view Japanese Americans and vice versa, Im just going with the little I know and grabbing influence from being a New York born and raised Hispanic.