The girl seems unperturbed by the fact that there is an Imperial Stormtrooper relaxing over a bowl of ramen next to her as if it were an everyday occurrence in Tokyo... or maybe it is... a vision of our distant future. Such absurdity.
On our trip, Nick and I would hang out at these small mom and pop soba-ya (noodle shop specializing in soba) at the end of each day. You put a few yen in the coin machine on the right, make a selection, out pops a ticket at the bottom, hand ticket to the guy behind the counter and in a few minutes you're enjoying a hot bowl of kitsune soba and an ice bottle of Kirin Malt. Typical Japanese inefficient efficiency. We'd lounge around pretending to be local bosozuko (thugs), but looking and dressing like the turistas that we really were. Such absurdity.
Just another 9-5 day. I don't look like I hate my job do I?... naaaah
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