Osaka. The Nation’s Kitchen. Bright lights, bustling with tourists, gimme ALL the sushi.
(True to my namesake, here I am at IND with my carry-on… thanks for the airport dropoff, Mom!) The last time I had spoken to Tate before taking off from SFO and properly stowing my electronic devices, he told me he would be waiting for me past baggage claim in Osaka and (I quote) there’s no way I would miss him.
I didn’t think much of it, assuming he just meant it was a small airport and he’d be the only American. Little did I know he meant that he had flown a giant cutout of my head over on this business trip with him and drug it around this whole time just to whip out during my grand arrival. To this day, my biggest regret in life was not having my phone handy at that moment. Anyone who knows Tate knows he is NOT the kind to draw attention to himself, thus he refused to recreate that moment, and immediately folded jumbo-Chelsea-head up and discarded her into the nearest waste bin. What a way to kick off my Friday. Continue reading “Kon’nichiwa, Japan [Volume 1: Osaka]”