Japanese Efficiency – In a Parking Lot

parking lot bike manLast week my husband and I went apartment hunting. Our house is being sold and our landlord will not be renewing our lease in June. So we have intermittently been going out with a realtor to see what’s available.

The realtor always drives us to places and makes both of us sit in the back seat, chauffeur-style. It’s formal and not altogether comfortable, but neither my husband nor I have the temerity to mess with custom in this case.  At one high rise building in Nishi Azabu, we went down under the building into the parking lot and the realtor asked the attendant where to park precisely, since he was showing one of the available apartments. Instead of telling us, the guy hopped on a nearby bicycle, and let us down two floors and across the third to find the realtor space.  From the point of view of the rear of the car, it was hysterical to see this little man, probably in his late fifties or early sixties, bearing down, speeding down the ramps and zipping around the corners, ahead of parking lot bike man 2the car.

Parking-bike-man pointed out the spot, bowed deeply as the realtor started turning the car to fit into the space, and then in a flash, he was off again, back up the ramp to his station by the parking entrance.

He was so zippy that the photos are terrible, but they’re the best I could do.  This is Japanese kindness and efficiency all rolled into one neat package – on wheels.

Construction, Japanese style

My road is under construction.  It seems that the water and gas pipes under the street are not as earthquake-safe as they could be, and needed to be replaced.  The process has been painful and inconvenient, but I know it’s worth it to be safe.  The other day the road was so torn up in front of my house that I couldn’t get in.  Or, I could sort of get in, but there was no way my bike was making it  – there was no solid road on which to ride; even I had to tiptoe through dirt.  The lady who was “minding” the front of the road (i.e. standing by the do-not-enter sign and being extremely sure that no one really enters) shouted out for someone.  The next thing I knew, a big, burly guy was lumbering toward us.  Seriously, how many big, burly guys have you seen in Tokyo?  They exist and they work construction, unsurprisingly.  Without a second thought, he picked up my bike, ten-pound battery and all, and carried it down the street, depositing it neatly by my house. The whole time this was happening, the minder-lady apologized over and over again for the terrible inconvenience.

Have I mentioned lately that the service in Japan is second to none?