One of the things I love about Tokyo is how you can step out of a tiny elevator into a wonderful little restaurant, full of interesting people and good food: the true heart of the city hides several stories up in some anonymous grey building.
And it was in one such place, that I happened to notice Evil Editor just a few tables away. I couldn’t believe my luck! I must have been staring, because he met my gaze a couple of times, but I could not bring myself to interrupt his meal. However, later, as he headed toward the exit, I knew my chance was slipping away, and I hurried to meet him.
“Hold on!” I grabbed the door just before it slid shut.
He took a step back as I entered the confined space. I must have been a sight: sweating from my sprint across the restaurant and panting like an overheated puppy. “So glad I caught you here,” I said. “I saw you there and I’ve been just dying to meet you. I’ve got something here I’d like to show you. It’s my fantasy.”
He cleared his throat.
“I know, I know. It’s not your usual thing, right? But it doesn’t hurt to try something different -- experiment a little. At least take a look -- I think you’ll like what you see. It might be a bit long; but I just know you could do something wonderful with it.”
I realized we weren’t moving.
“You did want to go down, right?”
I reached for the control panel, a mess of hieroglyphics, and hit the bottom button. There was a gush of running water as cold wetness enveloped my foot. I looked down. Shit. “This, uh, this isn’t the elevator, then?” Evil shook his head.
I slid the door open and backed away, but not before he had managed to piss on my other shoe.