After seven years at the same job I’m gone. I told a co-worker who came into my classroom unexpectedly during break time to fuck off. For some reason he thought he could slither into my classroom and eyeball me like he wanted some trouble. Honestly he looks and talks like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.
I don’t know what he wanted because I had been trying to teach my students about voting for three months, because in Japan, now, if you are 18 years old you can vote. So, I was using the last shitty election in the United States as an example of how to become an informed voter and the differences between the parliamentary system in Japan and the direct democracy styled of the United States. I think I was successful but no matter where you go in this world somebody will hate on you. Well, I’m not one to hold back what I feel and after questioning why he came into my classroom and telling him about his own problems, with his students he told me to shut up and I told him,”fuck you!”
It was pretty much the beginning of the end but not because they, an administrator and others wanted it that way but because I went to the head master and told him, “I want to leave. I can’t work like this,” and so I resigned. I’ve been looking for other work but it has been difficult but I always stick to my guns or my pedals. Lately some job prospect has come up, thanks to my Australian educational consultant. So, like Jonah I jumped into the sea and swallowed by a giant fish that but we say was a whale. George Orwell wrote an essay about it too.
The best part was riding to work and looking at all of the people, beautiful women, exotic cars, accidents, school girls skirts blowing up in the wind. It felt good. As I became a better rider, I built better bikes to compensate for the changes, but this would not have been possible without my cycling mechanic Jedi master. Whatever vision I had in mind, he could make it work and add more if necessary. It was wild, riding too Mitaka-ku was like going through Lego City. Everything wasn’t fantastic but I had fun almost getting hit by cyclist going the wrong way on the street, which is common, racing other riders on street like two vagabonds from Two Lane Blacktop.
Cycling is addicting. Once you get on the road you want to ride more and so you go through a metamorphosis like in some Kafka novel and as you change so does your bike if you can afford it. This is what happened to me. It was gradual at first but then the change was complete.
Like Jonah in the whale I survived but at times I feel like I’m still stuck in some giant fish protected from the outside world because I’m stuck in the fishes belly. So for now while I can, I keep cycling, and though my new job prospect may not allow me to ride again through Tokyo, I’ll become a weekend rider but I’ll never stop being a crazy cyclist.