Smooth armpits in a taxi
It costs 660 yen (about $6.30) just to step into a cab in Tokyo, and the subway system stops running at midnight. Bastards. I think the price should be lower for two very credible reasons. First, I should get a discount for the entertainment I provide the drivers with my horrendous Japanese. My directions usually come out like “straight … ummm, tunnel … ummm, light next left, please … again, please.” (Or maybe they’ll start charging me more for the extra mental effort it takes to understand what the fuck I’m saying.)
The other reason prices should be lower is the massive amount of advertising that assaults me when I step into a cab. Some of it, like the scrolling digital banner ads, I can’t understand anyway (for a long time I thought it was payment information). But I can figure out the brochures glaring at me from the back of the seat. They’re usually for services such as hair replacement for men or crappy-ass DVD releases (I share a cab with “Alien vs. Predator” often these days).
By far, this is my favorite Tokyo taxicab brochure:
This is the mighty legion of happy hairs. More specifically, it’s a legion of happy armpit hairs, torturing fair maidens all over Japan with their presence. See how they mock you with their stares and smiles? They know you suffer when they come, and they relish the power they possess over your pits.
“Do not fuck with us! We will make you stinky and appear to have Brillo pads attached to your body!” they shout. All hope is lost, is it not? No. Fortunately for you, there is a force they fear.
“You are no match for my powerful happy armpit hair death ray, which I can utilize for only 8,000 yen!” cries your savior, who rides to your rescue on a white coat and sporting a porno mustache. The happy armpit hairs quickly become sad, shaking in fear at what the stranger might pull out of his pocket.
It’s only a flashlight, but for some mystical reason unknown to mankind when he turns it on, then utters the words “Let’s love armpit happy” the legion of armpit hairs scream in agony then disappear, living your pit smooth and sparkling clean.
And if you act now, you can transform your hairy, stinky self into a metaphysical cheerleader, flying through the heavens surrounded by clouds, pulsars, quasars and some very informative speech balloons.
“Hooray armpit hair destroyer technician! Once again I can go on dates and snuggle close to my man, watching the special-edition DVD of ‘Alien vs. Predator’ with total self-confidence!”
Note: All translations approximate.
UPDATE: Of course, when I say “translations approximate” I mean “entirely made up by someone who doesn’t read Japanese.” Just wanted to clarify. Thanks!
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