I was in bed at 10am, contemplating whether I should get up and do things on this rainy day here in Kyoto. I plan on going to Gion, the old part of the city in the East where those gals in kimonos run around and look pretty. Despite the weather, I'll still go.
Anyhow, I'm in bed, and then my doorbell rings. "That's funny, I'm not expecting any guests." I pick up the intercom, and some guy starts spewing out keigo (polite, rather incomprehensible speech) left and right. I let out my best "etto... yoku wakarimasen" (that is, I don't know what the fuck you're saying, but a little more polite than that). He ends up saying something about giving me an explanation, and then he says some more gibberish that I can't understand, and eventually says with a thick accent, "Preazu o-pen ze doa." I open it up, wait for him to come up to my room (or not, hoping it was all a mistake on his part), and eventually hear the knocking on the door.
"Doh!" I think, crawl out of bed, put on a pair of pants and a shirt, and open the door. Turns out, this man in a suit, who I thought was some kind of psycho lunatic trying to steal all my ramen, is from NHK, and he's here to collect the dues for me watching TV. That's funny, last I checked, I wasn't in Great Britty eatin' fish and chips and watching the BBC and paying a licensing fee for my telly. Apparently, there's the same wonderful thing in Japan too. Wait, wait, hold up... why are there still commercials on the NHK channels? Hmm.
So, I pay my obligatory fee for owning my tube, get a free NY Met's keychain (joy and rapture!), and decide that I need to recalculate my expenses for each month.
Nonetheless, I've recently acquired a tutoring gig, meeting once a month to have a conversation in English. I'm thrilled. I love to teach! (Ho-ho!) And money is good too, especially now that I know that Uncle Saamu is gonna be gafflin' more of my yen.