By Kevin Cooney
Most people spend their life searching for the perfect person. They search for meaning in this transient earthbound life. They search for answers to eternal questions about life. For me, mostly I search for my keys and my train pass.
I am a moron. That is to say an idiot, a spaz, a dimwit, a nimrod, a maroon. If I were smarter I'm sure I could think of more, but that's all I've got off hand. I'm almost tempted to call it a skill, this ability I have. I have the canny ability to lose things regularly and forever. I've lost just about everything at one time or another. Bags, wallets, coin purses, umbrellas, ohhhh the umbrellas... I have lost hundreds of umbrellas. Sunglasses, watches, books, cellphones, even larger seemingly impossible to lose items like laptops and bicycles. And yet, here I am perennially ransacking my apartment looking for a keys like a spy hunting micro-ficshe in an enemy hotel room.
I'm starting to think I'm sleep walking or something during the day. Only due to the kindness of taxi drivers, fellow train passengers and bemused cafe staff have I managed to limit my loses in recent years. I've taken to chaining my wallet to my pants, so that if I can at least find my pants, I can find my wallet. Fortunately, I can almost always find my pants. I've begun giving myself a body search every time I stand up. My grandfather did the same thing, doing a quick inventory of possessions before moving to a new room. I used to mock his little "Do I have everything?" jig, but I've begun the same dance. "Glasses, wallet, phone, Ok! We can go!"
It's in these moments that I lose things that I am grateful to be in Japan. Anyone who has lived here, and like me is a moron will tell you. Lost items almost always turn up again. It's freakish, unnatural and utterly mystifying to me how a lost wallet found in the middle of the street can be returned to its owner cash intact. I'd say 80% of my lost items have made it back to me. Not including, of course, my tribe of orphan umbrellas out there... somewhere.
Most recently I lost a small USB device. A USB device that due to advances in technology is the size of a pack of gum and priced around 300 dollars. While I appreciate this new space age technology, I shouldn't own anything that small and expensive. It went missing a few weeks ago, and after inquiring at the shop where I purchased it I was told to call the company's main office.
I dread calling main offices. My Japanese is fine for normal conversation, but dealing with keigo, the highest politeness of Japanese language on the phone is near impossible. I have begged telephone operators to simple down their "Are o tsukau you ni onegai shimasu" to something briefer like"Are ne!" Seriously... you humbly request that I consider using something. Just tell me to do it.
After three attempts to navigate the keigo speaking auto-menu I was finally able to reach a human being. She told me which buttons I was supposed to have pressed to get to the right department, but hadn't. Finally connecting to the right person, I managed to explain my situation, and work out a solution to the problem which will end up costing me only 30 bucks. I hung up the phone, relieved I didn't need a new multi-year contract and a wad of cash for my stupidity.
Amazingly, I was glowing. Yes, I had just lost something. Yes, It was a waste of time and money. But I had managed to work everything out, by myself on the phone in a foreign language. Maybe I'm not so stupid after all. All I had to do then was bring the new permission code to the electronics store to get a new device. The permission code I wrote down during the phone call. Somewhere on a piece of paper on my desk. Somewhere.
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