Surreal Moment of the Week

Last night after work, I stepped into the Windansea diner across the street from my apartment. It uses the same logo as the Windansea brand in Southern California, so I figured it was worth checking out. Turns out, the menu has a map of San Diego that prominently features the streets of Del Mar and there are a few posters of Huntington Beach surf contests on the wall. When the waitress asked where I was from, I pointed at one of the posters...and within thirty seconds I was seated at the bar with Hiro, Koumi, and Mr. George, telling stories about Surf City, USA.
The married couple that owns the diner have been dreaming about going to Huntington Beach for their honeymoon since they were married five years ago. Unbelievable. Anyway, Hiro and Mr. George were each working on a bottle of whiskey (unfortunately, it was not a Suntory) and as they got deeper in, they insisted that I try all of the Windansea's takes on American foods. The highlight: guacamole with shrimp in it (delicious.) The lowlight? The fish egg that they told me was dried fruit. Although I have to admit, having drunk Japanese people play a practical joke on me was pretty entertaining. They also insisted that I drink Miller Genuine Draft with them to celebrate America. Or something like that. I eventually convinced them that Corona was Huntington Beach's beer of choice, so a couple of those came my way as well.
Once we all had the Asian-Glow, the conversation turned to race relations in the USA. I believe the best question was from Mr. George: "So, you have a black basketball team and a black track team, but no black swimming or hockey? Are they not allowed?" I didn't really know where to begin with that one. Eventually, I had to stumble out of there so I could actually make it to work this morning. I thanked my new friends for the free food and drink and then I may or may not have agreed to sing English songs at Mr. George's night club next weekend. Overall, I learned a lot about the way Japanese people think about some things. Or, more accurately, how two absolutely smashed Japanese guys and one smashed Japanese woman think about some things, when they're smashed.
So that's the best story I've got for the week. I hope to top it when I go to Tokyo this weekend. I wish I had photo documentation of last night, but my camera is currently being repaired after a tragic karaoke accident.
And yes, I heard about Monday night's Dodger game. I don't really know how to react, and if this kind of magic continues I seriously don't know what I will do. I am pretty happy that Mike Piazza was at least in the stadium for the biggest win since they traded him.