Crazy like the coconut

I am not a social creature.

The whys and where-fores of this fact can be debated ad nauseam. Is it: genetics? Environs? Mental Maladies? Suppressed childhood traumas? Poor parenting? Was I held enough/not enough as a child?

The only thing that I can say with any amount of certainty is that I don’t know.

I don’t know why I am the way that I am. The only thing that I can say for certain is that I’m ok with me.

Can you say the same for yourself?

If there is one fault (of many) that my worldview does not lend itself to it’s that it is awfully hard to enjoy living in a foreign country (that doesn’t utilize a European-based alphabet) when you are an obvious minority. To be blunt, it can be a completely isolating experience. The obvious rebuttal would be to suck it up, make friends, learn the language, etc. People who haven’t lived abroad usually offer these “valid points“.

That is not to say that my time thus far has been completely miserable. Some days have been worse than others, for sure. I have learned something though. While the solitary life has it’s merits, some days you just need to get out of your comfort zone and go exploring.

One such day, the wife and I went exploring and found that, after a while, we needed sustenance. We decided on a conveyor belt sushi restaurant that we had frequented before. While going through the menu, I spied, with my fat bug eyes, that you could get coconut water served to you, in what appeared to be, a coconut. As we were also parched, I thought “Why the hell shouldn’t I drink coconut water out of a plastic coconut?”

Suffice it to say, when it arrived, I was twice as pleased to see that it was a real, goddamn coconut.

Nice work, Japan.

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