CULTURE COMBAT

With only the perception necessary to chose drinking water over drinking molten lava, you can see where this is going.

Samurai House serves the best, THE BEST!, almond shrimp I've ever had. I'm a regular here whenever we play golf in the Rowland Heights area. And Saturday was one of those days. I buy my one-entree combo, steamed rice and almond shrimp, with two Diet Cokes, and sit and eat and read. I'm here enough so that they recognize me, plus I leave a tip...

So I walked in on Saturday, with the above book. It never for a second occurred to me that there would be a problem. Not one employee was born within 15 years of the end of WWII. Plus how would they ever see the cover? But half way through the meal I needed another napkin (runny nose, not untidiness) and I got up, turned the book over so I wouldn't lose my place and walked to the counter. While I was away from the table, one of the employees walked by and glanced at the book. I bet he probably was wondering why a 'See Dick Run' book could be so thick. I imagine he did a nice double take. But for sure, when I was walking back to the table, I could see that he was figuring that although I probably outweighed him, it was likely that I didn't know half the karate stuff he did. Plus I was maybe 30 years older, although obviously beautifully maintained.

As I began to sit down, he asked me what the book was about. Perhaps I was a bit cavalier in my gruff response... "If you can read, you know what it's about."

He said something in his native tongue and he was quickly joined by two other staff people. When they joined him, he picked up the book, which I thought very bold of him, and showed them the cover. I could see one of them was having trouble puzzling out all the words.

It was a mistake, but one I'd probably repeat under similar circumstances. "Hey, this is just one writer's version of historical events. He simply thinks that Hirohito was not an innocent dupe of the military, that his was the guiding hand in preparing for, fomenting and then declaring war on Korea, China, Russia and America. I haven't finished it, but I presume the author is going to offer an opinion as to why it was that we, the United States, didn't hang the little Nip emperor by his scrawny samurai neck." The last was a calculated insult, and a graphic example of how men who should know better often drown in their own testosterone.*

Now they were buzzing like angry bees in their native tongue. The next English that was spoken was by the older of the two men who'd been summoned by the first guy. "We want you to leave. You have insulted our food."

Now that was a total lie. I love their food. But he probably figured that twisting things around would serve them better should the matter escalate. And he was right. So being outnumbered, and having been outfoxed, I picked up my styrofoam container, my one remaining Diet Coke, and the book, and walked out.

As I got to the door, I looked back. The Japanese owner was looking at me from the rear of the store. I could see that he had no idea what was going on. But he must be a heck of a boss if his three Latino employees would go to bat for him like that. So I turned and bowed to him. He bowed back, a big smile on his face.

I can only imagine the confusion that must have ensued. But I'm kinda scared about going back...



* the phrase ...men drowning in their own testosterone is covered by international patents and may not be used EVER by anyone other than me.