That's right, the screwball arrived last week and will be here for another month. I've made vague reference to him in other threads, but just to recap, he's 60 with blond hair and a fetish for all things American. He was a greaser back in the day, but now prefers western wear, and the occasional USAF flight suit, I shit you not. He's also the guy who one day decided to move to Sri Lanka for retirement and failed miserably within a year (I think he went just to spite us for not inviting him to live with us here in the U.S.)
My mother-in-law (greatest woman in the world) divorced his ass years ago because he was apparently quite the philanderer, and ever since he's been through a string of girlfriends, mostly Brazilian snack hostesses and the like, none of which have exactly volunteered to take care of him for the rest of his life. So he's basically single and our responsibility now.
The first time I met him he picked my wife and me up from the Naha Airport in full commando garb. At one point, when my wife was a kid, he would drive around with a megaphone attached to his car, yelling at people to get out of the way as needed.
So, anyway, here he is, in our cramped apartment, driving us crazy. I'm sure I will have lots to report over the next month. But, some gems so far:
-Every time we enter a store and are greeted by a worker with a "Hi, how are you?" he asks us if we know the person. We, of course, reply that we do and they are in fact very good friends of ours. This gets him all excited about the possibility of a discount. Sometimes, we'll just tell him that they gave us a discount to make him happy.
-After eating, he just sits there expecting the dishes to magically clear themselves. I understand the idea of being a good host, but after about week, it was time that he started pulling his own weight, so we just started leaving him at the table with his dirty dishes, until finally he got the idea to clear them himself.
-Every time we get in the car to go anywhere my wife has to ask him to "try this new candy" in order to battle his oyaji breath with breath mints.
-He hates Korean and Chinese people, and they are everywhere in the SF Bay Area. We have to trick him to get him to go into a Korean or Chinese supermarket by saying that it's a Japanese market. Nothing cracks me up more than when he finally catches on and then points out to me (as if I didn't already know) that all the writing is in Korean...."Adhesive, mite! Zenbu Kankokugo da!
-When he wants to talk to somebody, he just starts running his mouth in Japanese, as if most Americans should have a basic understanding of nihongo. Now I know how the French must feel.
-He went out and bought a bicycle right away so that he could cruise around on his own, I told him that Americans aren't allowed to ride on the sidewalk and he has since given up his dreams of independence. I would feel bad for him if not for the fact that he refuses to wear a helmet.