My boss feigned surprise for all of two seconds before accepting my resignation.
And just like that, it was over. For my ten years of service to the company, I was given 500,000 yen — a pittance, really.
Luckily, I’d managed to funnel a nice 100,000-yen bonus my way after accidentally upping the interest rates on a few of our high-balance accounts some months back. I felt a little guilty about it at first, but considering that my severance pay was a goddamned disgrace, it was only fair.
You ever walk around town on a weekday afternoon with several hundred thousand yen in your pocket? It feels nice. It makes you want to explore the neighborhood and toss some money around.
I’d passed by this place every day on my way to work, but never went inside before today. These guys offered everything from foreign language instruction to guitar lessons to jazz dance practice. I didn’t have anything else to do with my afternoon, so I decided to sit in on a few classes.
I picked up a little bit of Hintabo while I was there. It’s sort of like Pig Latin, only more confusing.
Next up was a lesson on hang gliding. “Why not?” I reasoned. “Sure beats trying to sit through Yakuza vs. Yakuza.”
I jumped at the chance to learn a few shamisen chords. I always liked the way that thing sounded.
I also learned how to breakdance and picked up my pilot’s license. It was a productive day.
The sun was setting by the time the place closed, but I wanted to see what else had sprung up in the neighborhood since I’d last visited.