There is a small but steadily growing list in this comedy of errors. They're work-related but it's a start when you arrive in a city and don't know anyone.
Syd: I sit next to this crazy Brit at work and she has been tireless in her endeavours to get me out and about. She also asked me to contribute articles to a Japanese magazine she works for. She's strong, sassy, generous and a lot of fun. A mate to troll with for J-boys.
My Hero: Our desks face each other at work. He's a fit Japanese translator, kind of gruff and stern (possible Freudian connections there). He was absolutely icy until the work party when we chatted for ages (read he bitched and moaned about the company) and he's been, well, not quite lovely, but a lot less gruff and stern ever since. My Hero was the one who gallantly prevented the bookshelves from toppling during the earthquake. He is also former Japanese military so was quite the reassuring presence during those tense minutes. Don't traumatic situations bring people together, just as Jack and Annie were drawn together in 'Speed'? Mmm, Keanu...
Clown-san: Clown-san is a great guy who reminds me of my grandfather in his manner (scary but you know he's really a teddy-bear), speech (strong accent and is quite deaf so speaks loudly), way of dressing (ill-fitting suit jacket) and the way he shuffles around the office in his slippers. He has been really supportive and helpful since I've been here although I'm gutted he hasn't asked me out for karaoke yet.
Ex-Navy Dudes, dude! The tele-marketing department consists of a heap of American guys who have recently left the Milit-ary. All are in their twenties and are all married to Japanese women (don't even start me on the western man/japanese woman thing, that's a whole new blog entry in itself). Unfortunately, they're not quite the drinking buddies I was hoping for e.g. gotta get back to the little woman, but still a good, fun group of guys.
The Comic-Book Guy (Simpson's reference): Initially, I spied him at the tram stop near my house before I realised he was my neighbour. Since then, I've caught glimpses of his shadow passing my teeny tiny kitchen window when he gets home at night. I'll reserve opinion until I get the guts to actually knock on his door and introduce myself or perhaps a 'chance' meeting on the stairs would be more appropriate.