Sardines

An unusual day for me as I took a little trip into the metropolops to visit a one night only show put on by colleagues of a friend in the UK entitled conjoin-me at a venue called superdeluxe.

The show itself and the company was very pleasant, interesting to be amongst the masses for a change. But my daughter had got it right when she warned me that there was a risk of warring parties waiting in the wings when travelling in Roppongi. The nightlife of the area is very popular among foreign visitors and thus certain tensions exist in greater measure there than elsewhere in the city.

These emerged on my return journey travelling on one of the deaper subway lines toward shinjuku. The train was crowded and a rather tipsy Japanese chap happened to bump into a foreign bloke who was standing by the door as he got on the train. Said bloke proceeded to take exessive umbridge to this and started pushing the chap over onto the floor. He looked like he might set too and start slapping the bemused Japanese chap about, so, fool that I am I shouted "Stop, Stop, Stop" until he did. All of the agression was coming from the foreign bloke who I believe (based on his accent as heard later on) was british like myself and in hindsight must also have been either obtuse or deliberately standing by the door awaiting the oportunity to get upset by a boarding bumbler. The cogniscenti move a few paces into the throng to avoid the melle, just far enough to avoid having to cause a panic in the sea of humanity when it is ones turn to swim for the door in order to alight at the destination. My subconscious did not get as far as considering the possibility that things have changed so much in Japan that the crowd might then be on the side of the agressor and turn on me for putting an end to their entertainment, thankfully this was not the case. However, subconsciously I think I realised I could have put up a fair fight against the agressor should the power of speach fail me. It was immediately obvious from the way the crowd broke that they were on the side of righteousness, thank goodness. The Japanese bloke actually seemed to see me as his saviour and swam over as if to a life raft in a stormy see. My one aim was to promote dialog not arouse agression. The young gentleman followed the plan and shouted all those things that one imagines such people will shout in a fairly inane way while looking at a spot somewhere over my head. I hadn't realised that some people might watch such scenes in movies and be inspired to emulate the burke. My correspondent seemed keen to know why I had intervened and I was very quick to admit that I had no good reason other than that the matter did not seem worth fighting over. He continually attempted to provoke me into becoming a surrogate combatant.

Anyway, the energy of the moment was spent in him shouting and then as the train stopped at the next station he asked me if I would like to step off and talk about it. I declined, stating that I was convinced I was already getting very close to missing my last train home. I cannot say that we parted friends, but perhaps he had cooled a little. Once the doors had closed behind him my fellow sardines and I heaved a sigh of relief and the tipsy chap (who I had actually patted on the head during the verbal abuse to demonstrate his harmlesness) and his companions all thanked me for my efforts. At one point the foreign bloke accused me of being some kind of dogooder who made a habit of interfering in Tokyo and everywhere else I went in the world. I assured him this was my first trip to Tokyo this year and he shouted "I hope you've learnt your lesson". I had to agree that I had, but in truth I learnt that lesson a long time ago and I fail to see how he could say that and somehow portray himself as a worthy purveyor of learning. I suppose it is a little like the wife beaters who say "Look what you made me do".

All in all an interesting evening, and thanks to the train gods of the underworld I did just make the last train home.