April 20, 1999: Feeling a bit sick, I decided to take a day off from work. I felt a huge migraine and my entire body just felt exhausted. After calling up the Eikaiwa, I went back to sleep, hoping to get rid of the flu-like symptoms. I woke up again around lunch time, and decided to make some ramen. I went into the kitchen, dressed in a t-shirt and sweats, and noticed that the House was silent. There wasn't anyone in the kitchen, not even Bruce. It felt good to be alone for a bit. I quietly made my soup base and noodles - then I heard someone walking down the hall. It was the Kenyan guy who just moved in a couple days before. A thin fellow and a few inches taller than me, he lived in the room next to mine. I didn't get a chance to talk to him until at this very minute, when he asked, "Hi, what is your name?".
I told him....immediately he bombarded me all these questions - "what country do you come from", "what are you making", "do you like Japan". He seemed to be nice, so I told him that I'd like to talk to him a little later, because I wasn't feeling well.
(Now, usually if you heard that someone was sick, you'd back off from asking questions, right?)
Unfortunately, this wasn't the case. I realized a bit of cultural difference. He continued with, "You are sick? I see....well, I'd like to take you out sometime". I replied, "Riiiiight, after I get over this cold". At this point I was suspecting that I was being hit on. Ignoring my comment, he talked some more. "You want to go to dinner with me tonight?". I was startled. "Tonight? I'm sorry, but I'm sick.*cough cough*" He proceded as if I didn't say anything. "Let's go to Kichijoji, I know a good Indian place there." After giving him a few more refusals, I decided to eat in my room. Disappointed that I couldn't have the lounge tv all to myself (my boyfriend had sent me a tape of tv shows from the States), I carefully carried my bowl to my room. After finishing my lunch, I decided to go to sleep, hoping the Kenyan guy would leave me alone.

That didn't happen.
A few hours later, someone pounded on my door. Awoken ffrom a deep sleep, I staggered to the door. It was the Kenyan guy again.

"Do you still want to go to Kichijoji?"

Ah, geez.... *shuts door in his face*