Larry David would have plenty to think about in Japan. The beverage he's contemplating at right is your typical potable treat in a Japanese restaurant: less than full. It's an issue I've raised before, but I demand satisfaction.

My aggravation has reached the point that when my fiancée and I dine out, I routinely enhance meals the evening with detailed critiques of our restaurant's beverage regimen. Does the fluid pass the 65-percent mark? Is the glass bigger than my fist? If I could use only the liquid in my drink to expand one of those compressed-sponge-animal capsules, would I get a robust animal friend, or a stillborn mutant?

Rare is the eatery that earns high marks, so as a negative reinforcement, I adjust my theoretical tip based on how thirsty I was during the meal. I say "theoretical" because there's no tipping in Japan, so instead I exact my revenge with withering glances and criticisms muttered in a language that the servers don't understand.

My fiancée gets into the act by pretending that I'm a paranoid, insufferable crank who's sapping the joy out of the best years of her life. She's a real gas, my girl is!

Last weekend's excursion into the briny deep showed me that not only am I correct in believing that the entire country is against me, but it's worse than I thought. Water, while vital for proper functioning of the human body, is usually not an urgent necessity. The restaurateurs of the Rising Sun may be stingy S.O.B.s, but they're not skimping on life-or-death stuff.

Air, on the other hand, is more of a must-have item. So my perception of the half-empty epidemic took on new dimensions when I was fitted for scuba equipment (or, as they say in the 1950s, SCUBA equipment) in Okinawa. My (American) instructor hoisted the air tank on to my vest and checked the pressure gauge. He then made a noise that could be interpreted as a "tut-tut."

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"Nah, it's just that the Japanese shops never fill the tanks all the way," he replied.

My eyes widened. The conspiracy was greater than I ever imagined! "Are you serious?"

I'll never forget what he said next. "Yeah." Poignant, and true. A tank that would be filled to 3100 psi in the U. S. of A. only merited 2500 psi in the Okinawan scuba shops.

The parallel seemed humorous at the time, but the yuks died down when, a half-hour into our dive, I glanced down at my air gauge and noticed that the needle had drifted into the dark-red area. Thinking back to the safety video we had watched earlier, I recalled that dark red is the "Dude, you're fucked!" zone.

Despite having lived to drown another day, my suspicion deepens. I won this battle, but will Japan win the war? History tells us "no."

But still.

Congratulations to half-empty. You are the Glass Status of the Day.

posted by Johnny at 11:19 PM - Permalink

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