Every year I promise myself I will avoid supermarkets at the end of the year, and every year I end up having to buy stuff. At year end, the normally polite and deferential Japanese somehow mutate into consumerism crazed maniacs, smashing into each other, fighting over the suddenly more-than-usually over-priced fish and vegetables, and ramming their shopping carts into the small of my back.
At Tokyu, a woman jabbed me in the boob with a gobo root.
At Foodium, I actually said “Arrrrgh!” to a man as he nearly toppled me onto a stack of tempura shrimp. He turned and gave me a look of such sweet innocence that it was hard not to find out just how strong my right hook is.
I SWEAR I will stay home next year and eat nothing but oatmeal.