It might be about time I finish the story of this disastrous trip. It’s only been over 3 years at this point. So, Day 4…
I woke up on what looked to be an auspicious, sunny day to find Reed in his flight suit and getting ready for work. This was the one day he couldn’t get out of working because he had to go in to train.
Now, before my visit when we had discussed this particular day, he told me I was free to hang around the house, or he could instruct me on how to get around on the train so I could get out of the house while he was gone…whatever I wanted to do.
As we were discussing it that morning, he was telling me about some shopping center that he thought I might like that was one train stop away from the train station nearest his house.
I followed him downstairs while he fixed his coffee or whatever to get more detailed instructions about how to get to it, as I was a little intimidated trying to take on a solo adventure. My previous international adventures involved English-speaking or Spanish-speaking countries where even though I might not be fluent (in the case of Spanish), I can still read and speak it a little bit. Or pretty much decipher any unknowns more accurately in any Latin-based language as opposed to Japanese.
As I asked him questions to make sure I understood everything he was telling me accurately, I could sense some irritation on his end. He was clearly annoyed with me. I asked him what was wrong and he snapped that I was asking him too many questions.
Oooookay…here we go with this shit again.
Having grown increasingly tired of his moodiness and snark over the past several days – these random bouts of attitude for seemingly no reason – I finally just had it up to *here* and asked him what the fuck his problem is.
The conversation that ensued was not a good one. He basically told me that he didn’t see this going anywhere because even when he got back to the US, he would still be 2,000 miles away from me. (Okay, we knew this beforehand.)
Oh! And apparently I looked “bigger” in person than in my pictures. Ummm…what?
One thing I do not do, and have never done, is catfish, kitten-fish, fat-fish, or what have you. I sent Reed selfies, videos, sugar, spice, and everything nice showing exactly what I looked like. So I was very taken aback by that comment. Granted, I was about 15 pounds heavier then than I am now, but now I’m thinner thanks to the subsequent complex that that very comment gave me. So maybe some good came out of it.
Soon enough though, after a bit of back and forth, we got down to the real crux of the issue: Reed’s ex.
As it turned out (and maybe I should’ve ascertained this before going halfway around the world – will be good to know for next time), Reed had broken up with some Marine Corps girl in May of that year. He hadn’t really been home a lot in the time since then and my visit, and in preparing for me to come, it was the first time he had the chance to clean out the remnants of her belongings from his house. That apparently brought up some residual feelings.
Ah…so that explains his apparent aggravation with my very presence that had been rearing its ugly head intermittently throughout our time together: he still has feelings for his ex and I’m not her. And in learning later what she looked like, his “big” comment made a little more sense too. She was very lanky. But frankly, not pretty at all. An awkward looking redhead with a big nose. But hey, if that’s what you’re into, then who am I to judge?
Soon after this conversation with all of its horrid revelations, Reed had to go to work. Suddenly, funnily enough, I didn’t feel like going anywhere so I resigned myself to a day of lounging on the couch, drinking Chu-His, and thinking about where exactly things went awry in my life to find myself in a foreign country in the house of a man who apparently didn’t want me there.
Though Reed had departed on tense terms, he eventually started texting me on Line throughout the day to check on me and see what I was doing.
He came home that evening with a bottle of wine for me, seemingly in the spirit of being conciliatory. I thought that was sweet of him.
That night, the plan was to go to his favorite neighborhood sushi spot where he was tight with the owner. Reed grabbed a bottle of Tullamore D.E.W. to present to the owner and we set off for the place, which was a 10-minute walk from his house. Despite the events of that morning, the atmosphere between us was normal and pleasant. No tension, no arguing. Neither of us brought anything up.
We got to the spot and were sat by the owner, who then proceeded to regale us with plate after plate of the most exquisite sushi I’ve ever had in my life, to include squid and whale varieties, which I had never had before.
Reed had made plans with one of his squadron mates to meet him there, and he did after a little bit. This appeared to be a place that his squadron frequented, as the owner had up various illustrations and pictures of jets that were signed by what I’m assuming are some of the pilots. The owner was very pleasant and his sushi was fantastic. Reed’s colleague was nice and I had a good time.
The owner delighted in the bottle of Tullamore D.E.W. that Reed brought and partook in a bit of it, but the majority was actually polished off by Reed himself. After we were done with sushi, the three of us headed over to a bar around the corner where we were supposed to meet up with his squadron mate’s girlfriend, but she ended up not coming.
Reed was drunk by then and only got drunker at the bar. But at least he was being nice. The only time he kind of snapped at me was when I could not stop being fascinated with a jar in the style of a Japanese cat sitting on the bar. He told me if I liked it all that much he would just buy it for me, but in a tone that suggested that he was tired of me being googly-eyed over it. But he made up for that by making me laugh by miming the pose of the cat repeatedly.
Reed was pissy drunk by the time we left and the walk back to his house was quite harrowing, especially with him stumbling and almost falling on the train tracks across from his house. Which a train travels along every 10 minutes or so. I was scared I would have to drag him across the tracks if he fell. But he managed to make it back to his house in all his drunken glory and we both passed out.
All-in-all, despite the events of that morning, it was a decent night and I had a good time.