I Pay for my Laziness
I’m a naturally indolent man so, when lumbering home drunk, I often eschew steep staircases and slide down the railings instead, embarrassment being preferable to physical exertion.
One stormy night last week, I was diabolically smashed after two successive all-you-can-drink sessions in a hotel bar in Yokohama city, when I spilled out of the train at the station near my home, and squeezed through the ticket gates. A few commuters were huddled around the exit of the station, looking fearfully at the streaks of lightning overhead, reluctant to step out into the torrential downpour. Coming from Britain, where it rains more often than not, I was not fazed by this. I was, however, disconcerted by the long flight of stairs that I was going to have to descend. Drained of energy after a week of work and be-fuddled by booze, a slow dreary trek down the vast mountain of steps was about as appealing to me as eating effluence. Alas, it was unavoidable. Unless…
I spotted the shiny silver railing running down the center of the staircase, raindrops glittering on its surface. This railing wasn’t invented for people to hold on to while climbing the steps, it’s an efficient time-saving device, I concluded. Inebriated enough to have lost all rational sense, I decided to slide down the railing, indifferent to the inevitable crowd of disapproving spectators.
It wouldn’t be the first time I had utilized the station railing in this fashion. I had harnessed its effort-saving properties a few weeks previously.
I sat on the silver saviour and lifted my feet. Big mistake.
The previous occasion, crucially, I had been wearing jeans, the tough denim enabling me to slither down the railing at a snail’s pace, whereas tonight I was wearing a brand new suit, the smooth fabric of the trousers creating no resistance at all. This factor, combined with the lubricating quality of the rainwater on the slippery railing, resulted in me zooming down the railing faster than a speeding bullet-drain. Oh God. Like an out-take from a skateboarding video, I flew off the end of the railing and smacked onto the hard tarmac below, my graceless fall slightly cushioned by a shallow puddle.
The residents of my neighbourhood are generally startled to see a giant white man merely walking down the street, but when one smashes into the ground before them with an apocalyptic thud, they are horrified. Pretending I wasn’t in an enormous amount of pain and that I wasn’t furious that my expensive new suit was plastered in mud, I clambered to my feet, held my head high, and walked out into the lashing rain, half-expecting to be struck by lightning at any moment.
August 11, 2007 at 2:11 am
Haaaaaaaa! Quite a spectacle, I’m sure. How are you feeling now? No permanent damage I hope.
August 11, 2007 at 3:04 am
I felt god-awful the next day, but I’m fine now, and taking the stairs.
August 11, 2007 at 6:51 am
I’m wondering if there is any CCTV footage of your wild ride?
August 11, 2007 at 7:51 am
sorry to hear about the painful experience….good thing you didnt fall on top of a japanese passing by!
August 11, 2007 at 9:53 am
Ha! Nice one.
Great site by the way, any chance of a link exchange?
August 12, 2007 at 1:06 am
Yeah, sure thing!
August 12, 2007 at 9:54 am
i wonder what hurt more in the morning, your head, or the realisation that u ruined a suit
August 12, 2007 at 12:58 pm
Actually, the suit was OK after it’d been through the dry-cleaners!
August 14, 2007 at 3:51 am
that was lucky. i guess they make much better suits out there
August 14, 2007 at 6:52 am
Oh, wow. Brilliant.
I’ve been given a formal “Caution” by Skytrain (Our local rapid-transit) Officials for taking out a tourgroup while sliding down the banister of an escalator in a station.
At the goading of friends, I jumped on and proceeded to the bottom at a great rate of speed; however, what would have been, I’m sure, a perfect landing was interrupted by a cluster of middle-aged American tourists pausing to check a map. I knocked two over and almost got a third, and was given my Caution while apologising before making an escape. …The map didn’t survive.
Thankfully, tourists are softer than pavement & puddles - how’re those bruises doing?
August 14, 2007 at 7:03 pm
Wow, that’s even worse. Glad to see it’s not only me. Nice one!
I’m fully recovered now, thanks.
August 17, 2007 at 10:43 pm
If you wait at the top of the staircase long enough, you’ll eventually see a plastered salaryman tumble forth and begin a spill down the steps. Next time, just ride one of those guys down. He’ll be so drunk, he’ll never know. Just make sure nobody’s watching.
August 18, 2007 at 12:56 am
Ha ha! That’s an excellent idea. Salaryman surfing!
August 22, 2007 at 10:53 pm
I would think that some people native to Japan find anything about foreigners to be entertaining. I mean some people would consider gaijins to be stunt performers, heh. Don’t you get a “jyouzu desu ne” sometimes about your inebriated talents ? Heck, if were present at the scene, I would say it!
August 22, 2007 at 11:04 pm
Haha! Actually, I got compliments on my dancing the other day in a beach bar. I ran over to a group of sexy girls on the dance floor, and started dancing around really badly like David Brent in the Office but they loved it. I definitely wouldn’t have got the same reaction at home.