At my apartment there’s a group of guys that hang out at the bottom of the stairwell.
They’ve got died, weirded-up Ziggy Stardust hair, they ride bikes, they smoke and they spit a lot. They’re the bad guys on the block and they’ve got their little gang together. When I come down the stairwell with my bags of trash to dump, they bow, apologize and move out of my way.
Is it because I’m ultra-bad? Not at all. It’s because even the baddest tough guys in Japan have a little bit of consideration for others. These guys are ‘yankees’ (ヤンキー). Continue reading
