Motomachi, Yokohama
After leaving Noge I walked and walked and walked. Eventually I ended up in an unexplored area of a familiar neighborhood, Motomachi.
This is weird, right?
Before I moved here, Isaiah told me that I’d fit in really well. He was talking about the Japanese tendency to use adorable little guys as icons/logos/spokesmen for products and companies. On a related note, they also use little guys to denote what you’re eating. At a beef restaurant? There will probably be stuffed bovines or cartoon cows all over. Bet you can’t guess what this place serves:
So. I’m in Motomachi. I’m wandering and feeling a little beside myself, as can happen when you spend a whole day alone. I start to go stir crazy and need to communicate. One thing I’m learning about myself is that I’m not the introvert I once thought I was. I miss human interaction. I’m tired of being deaf to what’s going on around me. I really miss eavesdropping!
Anyways, I end up in this cafe. It’s a really nice little place (called HB Cafe, or the Happy Birthday Cafe – another time where I’m not sure that the words mean what they think!) with a florist attached. Great environment.
The barista speaks a little bit of English and for some reason she brings me my coffee without my paying for it first. This … like never happens. You go to a coffee shop, you order, pay, get your coffee. That’s how coffee shops work.
I’m sitting here for a while, enjoying the view, the atmosphere, my thoughts, etc. and eventually I realize that the scratching in the back of my throat, the suddenly itchy eyes and heavy-chested feeling I’m having is because I’ve been hanging out in a flower shop!! Now Mom, I mean no disrespect, but a day in your profession would be the death of me. I would have to be so drugged up on antihistamines just to get through the day without sneezing myself off my chair. I realize it’s time to go. For my health. Because you see, I’m now not in my right mind.
And this is when I walked out. Of the cafe. Without paying.
And this is when the very nice, kind-of-English-Speaking barista had to RUN down the street to catch me, bring me back in and take my $4.00. I can’t even describe the amount of embarrassed I was.
On the brightside, I’ll *never* run into this barista again. (Not like the bakery truck guy who noticed when I fell over in the street and now sells me bread once a week.) I continue on. Because there are good things in my future.
A few nights ago Jon and I saw a doughnut cafe that was closed. It looked pretty cute and I thought I would check it out again.
I saw the line before I saw the cafe.
As it turns out, hara donuts had only opened a few days before. And to quite the fanfare! My review? While it was certainly worth $1.60, it was not really worth the 20 minute line! Never mind that, the logo was *adorable*! Another example of cute little guys.
