I just want to apologize to patrons (particularly the lavatory ladies) of an unnamed restaurant in Roppongi.
I am really sorry.
It is really difficult to admit this....recently, when I was out at an unnamed restaurant in Roppongi, I just couldn't figure out how to flush.
I am so sorry.
Just to be clear, I am no Japanese washlet rookie. On the contrary, over the years in Tokyo I have become quite the expert. I have successfully waved, stomped, and experienced a somewhat impatient auto-flush. I have triumphantly pulled levers, pushed buttons, and yanked chains.
Who controls the control panel? Oh yeah, this lady does!
But, this time, I was completely baffled. I was way out of my league. I was in serious trouble.
Honestly, please believe me, I did everything I could think of. I inspected the panel. I felt around the tank. I examined the stall from floor to ceiling for buttons or infrared sensors or some kind of sign. Any kind of sign.
So, I did what I thought was best.
I found a marker in my bag, wrote "SUMIMASEN" ("excuse me; sorry") across a long strip of toilet tissue and then wrapped it around the commode like it was a crime scene.
Then, I briskly walked out of the rest room.
And, headed immediately for the check out line.
While I was waiting to pay, I heard some women chatting in the back of the line.
One of them said, "One of the ladies in this restaurant has very impressive handwriting."
"Yeah," said her friend, "And, apparently, quite an insatiable appetite for asparagus."
I am not sure exactly if they were referring to me; I will not confirm nor deny. However, I will accept the penmanship compliment.
I hope this never happens to me again.
And, I also hope for a new smartphone app that can help me be less dumb.
I am hoping for a remote flush device.
And, in the meantime, I promise to cut back on a certain green vegetable.
