I don't often go to Shirokiya's but when I do, I make a beeline to their upstairs food court where a lot of the foods offered are unfamiliar to me. Great for a tasting adventure if it were not for the price. So I end up sticking with the usual, a saba or salmon mixed plate. After watching them make taiko yaki, a stuffed kind of pancake, I decide to try one with chocolate filling.
It turns out okay, but nothing to write home about. I walk around some more and watch how shrimp tempura is made.
I sit down to drink some water and listen to my neighbors' conversation -- three heavily-tatted local guys of enormous girth, sharing beer from one of those huge table top beer dispensers. They're talking story, laughing, having a good time.
"You know da Punchbowl house?" says one.
The others nod.
"I ask my maddah why is my bedroom pink? You know wat she say?"
"Wat?"
"Koz my bed spread was pink."
Another says: "We had two rabbits. One day I come home from school. No rabbits. Wat happen? Somebody open da gate. Rabbits jump out. Dog eat them."
"Foh real?"
"Nah, I tink jes a story."
"Ya, wen you small kid dey tell you anyting. One time I ask my faddah wat is a loading dock? He say das where you can only load people in the car. No can drop off. Against da law."
"Eh, don't sneeze in my beer."
"Ya, one time my faddah had to do you know wat but no lua. He jes go to a bush an stick his okole out lidis. No squat, nottin. Den boom, it come out. I was impressed."
And thus ends my story about Shirokya.
I hope I did alright with the pidgin. If not, so be it. Like they say:
"If can, can. If no can, no can."
