The Saga

I came to Japan 5 years ago with about $2,000 US dollars, very little experience, no Japanese ability, few marketable skills and no friends or contacts. My original goal in coming to Japan was to study martial arts for a month, but after one week living in Tokyo I made the decision to try to live here. After making this decision, reality set in. I would need to find a place to live and a job. Which should I look for first?

After one week of living in a hotel in Tokyo, my account was already down to $1,400. I didn't want to find an apartment, and then get a job very far from my apartment. I decided to focus on finding a place to live. I found a free magazine called Tokyo Classifieds, and noticed an ad from a new company called Sakura House. I called them up, and they told me about a vacancy in a guest house near Tsukiji . I went and looked at the apartment - it was a tiny room with a shared kitchen, toilet and shower. It was very close to the station, and quite central in Tokyo. I immediately accepted, and moved in. Unfortunately, it cost a deposit of $200 and the first months rent to move in - a total of $900. I was down to $500, and I was starting to sweat.

I picked up Tokyo Classifieds and starting faxing, emailing and calling every employer I could. Most of the jobs were for English teachers, but I applied for everything and anything. I went to several interviews, but none of them worked out. There were various reasons - "no university degree", "too young", "too old", "no experience", "no qualifications", "the position was filled", "no Japanese". Continuous rejection was pretty harsh on my previously huge ego. But I steeled myself and kept trying. In a week and a half, I had contacted 25 employers, went to 10 interviews, and had nothing to show for it except an ever-shrinking bank account - now down to $147.

I was starting to get a bit worried - what would happen to me if I ran out of money? I cut back on my expenses as much as I possibly could, and begin eating 5 rice balls a day. They were cheap and pretty healthy - I owe my initial survival in Japan to salmon rice balls!

Then finally, the call came that changed everything.

"Hello, are you available to teach a class of English tomorrow at 7pm?"

She sounded middle-aged, and her voice was very sharp and to the point. I gulped. I was down to $80, and things were getting very bleak.

"Um...", I paused, as though I was considering my busy schedule. "I believe I'm available at 7pm. Where should I go?"

My heart thumped in my chest as she gave me the directions. I wrote them down and thanked her, trying to hide my excitement and happiness. A part-time job! This could change everything. This could be the start of my new life in Japan! I brightened up, and did my best to prepare for my first English lesson in my life.

I arrived at the station at 6:30pm to make sure I was on-time. I was wearing a suit kindly borrowed from another similarly sized occupant of my guest house. The neck was too tight, and I was feeling uncomfortable. I was all too aware that this could be my last opportunity in Japan. If I blow this, I could be forced back to Australia with my tail between my legs. I stood in the station toilet, looking at myself in the mirror. I broke out in a light sweat. The clock ticked around to 6:55pm, and I went to the designated meeting place.

At precisely 7pm, she turned up, and with a minimum of conversation, we began walking to the English class. She was a short stubby woman with zero tolerance for bullshit, and almost no tact.

"It is a business English class. Be as business-like as possible. You must be professional, but also friendly. You are here only because the last person suddenly left. Don't mess it up. Do you understand?" Her voice cut through the warm Tokyo air.

"Um, yes, I understand. I'll do my best. Um, I haven't actually taught a class of English before, though," I said, trying to keep the tremble from my voice. She didn't respond.

We finally arrived at the class. She opened the door, and there were 40 Japanese business people in the room. I walked in, and everyone looked at me.

"INTRODUCE YOURSELF." She instructed me, quietly and harshly.

"Ah... hello everyone...! My name is Firefly, and I'm from Australia."

A quiet murmur broke out after I mentioned Australia. "Has.. anyone ever been to Australia?" I tentatively asked.

"I went to Cairns!" a voice called out from the crowd. Interestingly, as I later discovered, almost every Japanese person has been to Cairns.

"Thats great!" I encouraged. Soon after, we were having a lively discussion about Cairns, Australia, Japan, me, what I like about Japan, Japanese language, Japanese food, kangaroos, koalas - then all of a sudden, the time was up. I blinked, as I realised that 2 hours had passed.

The woman led me in a daze outside.

She fixed me with her cool stare. "You didn't totally mess it up. I will wire 8,000 yen to your bank account tomorrow. Come back next week. Same time, same place. For next lesson though, you MUST MAKE A LESSON PLAN. Do you understand?"

I cautiously nodded, but I decided it would be prudent to tell the truth : "Actually, I've never actually made a lesson plan before....", I began.

"I don't care," she cut me off. "Just make one. OK?"

"Got it." I confirmed.

I walked away a flurry of emotions. I did it! I had my first English lesson. It was actually really fun. I got paid 4,000 yen an hour! Hmm , I have to make a lesson plan - I don't know how to do that. But 8,000 yen will be enough to survive for a bit longer until I find a more permanent job! I could barely contain my feeling of elation as I walked back to the train station.

Sure enough, the next day arrived and 8,000 yen appeared in my bank. I bought a bentou (lunch set) instead of riceballs to celebrate. Then I set about my next task - a lesson plan. I wrote down some ideas on paper. I went to Shinjuku Kinokuniya, a huge bookstore, and read lots of literature about teaching English and lesson plans. I wrote down some more ideas. Then I asked some other English teachers living in my guest house for advice. I wrote down their ideas. I asked my Japanese friends about what kind of lesson they really enjoy. I wrote down those ideas. I called my father, and asked him "Hey, if you had to teach a lesson of English, what would you teach?", I then wrote down his ideas.

In total, I spent about 12 hours working on the best lesson plan the world had ever seen. The lesson plan was detailed down to every single minute. I was extremely proud of my creation, and many people expressed their admiration for my fantastic plan. Finally, next Wednesday came. I borrowed the suit again, folded up my lesson plan, and slid it into my ill-fitting shirt pocket. I left the guest house full of confidence and bravado. I got on the train, brimming with motivation. I arrived to the station, and went to the same building. I found my way back to the same room, I unfolded my lesson plan, walked in...............

And found 2 men sitting down in the middle of the room.

"Oh, sorry. I'm the English teacher, I must have the wrong room." I said, as I closed the door.

"Please wait! This izu English class!" One of the men called out.

I swung the door open again. The confusion must have been readable on my face.

"Tonight everyone is having project. Everyone very busy. We are only people who can come tonight." He explained in halting English.

My mouth dropped open. I felt light-heade

d and sick as the 12 hours I spent on my lesson plan flashed before my eyes. I robotically re-entered the room.

"Oh... so just, you two guys?" I asked, trying to hide my disappointment.

"Right." They nodded their heads and smiled at me.

"Well...." I said, and I handled my 12 hour lesson plan. "Since um, there are only two of you... is there anything that you want to learn or study?" I asked.

The silence was deafening for a very long 10 seconds, until the man on the right said :

"I want to talku... abouto my weekendo." He announced.

"Ok, great!" I said, as I listened to him talk. Then the other guy talked about his weekend. Then I started talking about my weekend.

Once again, before we knew it, we were having an interesting conversation about Japan-Australia relations, bushfires, politics, Japanese culture, Australian hospitality, and suddenly my watch started beeping. 2 hours was up again! Unbelievable.

I looked at my watch, and looked up at them with a smile on my face. It was a fascinating conversation, and they both had interesting opinions and ideas. We all had so much fun talking about every subject. I couldn't believe I was getting paid 4,000 yen an hour for this!

They looked at me and said "Thank you very much for our lesson today Firefly-san. It was very enjoyable! We had so much fun."

I grinned at them. "I had lots of fun as well! Thanks guys, it was great. See you next week!".

I walked out of the classroom with a spring in my step. I turned back, and they were bowing and smiling at me as I left. I waved back. Teaching English is awesome! Tomorrow morning, there will be 8,000 yen waiting for me in my account as well. Now I can relax a bit and focus on trying to find a job. I already did all the work on the worlds best lesson plan, I'll just use that next week.

I went to bed with a smile on my face, and I relaxed and slept soundly for the first time in 2 weeks.

I woke up at 9am to find a missed call on my mobile. I checked the number - it was the stern woman who organised my lesson. She must be calling to congratulate me on such a good lesson. I excitedly called her back.

"Hi! This is Firefly. Thanks very much for organising last nights lesso-", I began.

"You didn't make a LESSON PLAN." Her words cleared my morning haze, and cut me to the bone.

"Lesson Plan? Oh right, actually I did, but-" I stammered.

"They were very upset with you. They complain to me. It was a VERY BAD LESSON." She was gaining momentum, and starting to yell at me.

"I'm.. very sorry. There were only 2 people, I thought I should-"

"I will pay you for last night's lesson. But thats it. Don't bother to come back again."

"But, it's a misunderstanding, hang on a second," I tried to explain, but she immediately hung up, leaving me alone with excuses and an engaged signal.

Similar to being kicked in the nuts, the impact of the words set in about 10 seconds later. I was emotionally and financially devastated. I gulped as I realised I had $60 in my account - and no job to speak of - not even part-time.

I would later find out this is a common theme in Japanese culture. Most Japanese people choose to avoid confrontation, and prefer to complain about you when you're not around. This is distasteful to me as a Westerner, but as a resident of Japan it's something I have to respect and understand. Now I have a much higher tolerance and understanding of this kind of behaviour, but it was a big culture-shock for me when I first came over.

What happened after this is completely unbelievable, and led to a series of events that changed the course of my life. I'll try to write about it soon.

Well to paint the picture again, I was sitting in my small, stuffy room in Tokyo. It was 9am. My brain was jarred after I had just been fired from my part-time job after my 2nd lesson. The crickets chirped continuously, intensifying the dull thud in my head. I stood up, bare foot on my futon. I walked over to the small dirty sink in my room and splashed some water on my face.

After about 15 minutes of sitting down on the hard wood floor, finally, I said out loud, "Fuck this. FUCK THIS." I wasn't going to save up money for 3 months, study Martial Arts continuously to a level where I would benefit from the training in Japan, put my entire life on hold in Australia, leave all of my friends and family to finally make it to Japan, and LEAVE. Because I couldn't find a JOB. A sneering laugh escaped my pursed lips, as my motivation began building up. After experiencing the incredible training in Japan, after making some great friends, after meeting loads of wonderful Japanese people, after experiencing life in a different country, after learning some of the Japanese language and being fascinated by it, what kind of LOSER gives up now? After coming this far? To go back after just a MONTH!?!? "FUCK THIS!" I said louder, empowered. My whole body felt electrified. I threw some clothes on, and ran out the door. I raced off through the crowded Tokyo streets. I knew exactly what I had to do.

40 minutes later, I arrived in Shibuya. I walked out of the ticket gates, and began on a straight line to my final destination. People jumped out of my way as I stormed through the crowds. Anyone who got close enough would have seen the electricity in my eyes. I finally arrived to the building. I walked into the lift, and pressed 7. Some shitty music played on the tinny speakers. The worn elevator doors slid open to reveal a counter. I walked over.

"*#@*!*!@$(#($($#." Said the guy behind the counter.

"INTERNET." I said.

"@#!@($**(%..?" He asked.

"Uh... time? 2 hours." I made a guess at his question.

He handed me a small card, and I walked over to a computer. I had arrived at an Internet cafe, and I had the determination of a thousandBuddhist monks under a thousand waterfalls. I sat down on the cheap plastic seat. I slid my sleeves down to my elbows like the maestro of an orchestra. And I began.

Open Hotmail, enter password. Download Firefly_Resume.doc. Open. Edit. Change. Improve. Download sample professional resumes. Compare. Improve. Update. Research available Japan jobs. Research companies in Japan. Find company. Research company, change resume to cater to company. Research professional cover letter. Write Cover Letter to suit company and position, attach to Resume. Prepare first Cover Letter and Resume. Scan for errors. Fix typos. Scan again - perfect. Click send.

I spent hours sending my resume to about 115 companies in and around Tokyo. I would settle for any job. Many companies I contacted had no positions available, but I emailed anyway. Anything to stay in Japan. I had to borrow money for food from friends living at my guest house, and I was driven to pay them back. My face flushed brilliant red with shame when I had to ask friends for some money so I could buy food. I renewed my vow to never to be in that situation again.

I sent my resume to many different industries. Investment Banks (any intern positions? I'm dedicated, available and capable), to English schools (I speak excellent English, and I have experience in teaching business English to... large groups and small groups.), to IT companies (I worked in IT in Australia. I am currently studying Japanese, but I am certain my skills, experience and dedication would make me a valuable asset to your company. Please consider me for an interview.), even to Restaurants (I am very capable and practised with food, having consumed food almost every day of my life. I have no experience, but I am dedicated and available to start immediately).

After 7 hours I woke up from my trance covered in sweat with an intense headache, and a rumbling, empty stomach. I splayed back in my chair, completely exhausted. I put together a list of the companies I emailed, and compiled a list of phone numbers to call. My stomach momentarily over-rode my brain, and I purchased some cup noodles for 120 yen, which were conveniently available within the internet cafe.

As I stared up at the smoke stained ceiling of the internet cafe, I had an odd feeling. I felt like I had placed my entire life savings on red at the roulette table, and I could feel the ball spinning around, and around inside my head. The ball was slowly but surely slowing down. I exhaled deeply. I leaned forward, and clicked refresh on Hotmail.

1 new message.

My stomach tightened as I clicked it.

"Thank you very much for your interest in our company. Unfortunately at this period in time, we are not searching for someone of your skills and qualifications. We will certainly keep your resume on file, and as soon as such a position becomes available, we will contact you."

A polite rejection letter. I found this companies name on my list of phone numbers and circled it. I would call them first.

I refreshed again.

1 new message.

"hello thank you for the applying. we are making the class of enlgish so we wish to have interview for you. palease repling with your avlaible time to orgnize the interview. - Okada"

Well, sounds like this guy could do with an English teacher. I was happy to provide my services.

"Hello, thank you very much for your interest. I am available immediately for an interview. I will be in Tsukiji shortly, but I am available to travel anywhere in Tokyo."

He replied and we made an appointment for Tsukiji at 8pm. I was cautiously optimistic. I borrowed a suit, and wore it to the meeting place. I was the only foreigner waiting, so Mr Okada had an easy time to find me. As it turns out, he could barely speak English. This made things difficult, since my ceiling of Japanese was "Hello" and "Goodbye". Useful Japanese to know, but it makes for a short interview.

He took me to a coffee shop, and we sat down. After sitting down, I dimly realised I had no idea who this guy was, or where he was from. I applied to 115 companies, he could be from any one of them! My eyebrows furrowed slightly as I realised I was at a major disadvantage.

"I have friend. Good friend," Mr Okada started.

"Oh," I said, unsure how best to react.

"He is work atto Intel. Big company. He top position there. Beri important."

"Thats... yeah, great. I like Intel." I said, uncomfortably. What the hell is going on.

"I also have friend Toyota." He haltingly continued.

I blankly stared at him.

"In Japan," he continued illustrating his points with his index finger. "Toyota izu..........." Okada-san paused for a long time.

I leaned forward in my seat to somehow try to encourage the next statement.

"Number 1," Okada-san finally continued. I sat back in my seat.

"Butto... there is Nissan. Nissan izu....." Okada-san paused. I involuntarily frowned.

"Number two." he finished.

I sat there, my feeling of optimism draining away. This was turning out to be a waste of time, and I'm losing another day. Shit.

"Honda is maybe........ number 3," Okada-san kept talking, and I was doing my best to follow and nod appropriately.

A thought struck me. Was this an English lesson?!? Ahhh man.

I sat as patientily as I could, doing my best to not squirm while I felt the spinning roulette ball in my skull continue to slow down. Finally, after 30 minutes, some kind of interview seemed to start.

"Do you have English?" He asked me with a serious expression.

"Yes," I replied confidently. "I have English."

"Do you have teaching?" He asked.

"Yes," I replied, as I stifled down the memory of the stern short fat woman screaming in my ear. "But only 2 classes."

"Only 2?" He rolled the statement around in his mouth as though he ate something distasteful.

"Yes. But I'm very," My mind raced. Dedicated? Committed? Motivated? SHIT, I need something with less syllables. Devoted?

"..... good." I offered.

He looked at me. I looked at him. There was a sudden, odd silence.

"We think on you." He said.

Rejected.

My world didn't crash down, because it pretty much already had, but I somehow felt just a bit more depressed. "Thanks." I said, as I reluctantly put down 500 yen on the table, my half of the bill. 4 cup noodles for a cup of crap coffee. I internally cursed.

I walked back to my guest house, feeling sick to the stomach. The dull thud in my head returned. Dejected, I walked inside.

I saw an American guy sitting inside the common room typing on a laptop.

"Wassup!" He said. "How was your day?"

"Yeah, wonderful. Magical day. Uh, hey, is it ok if I use your laptop for a second? I applied for some jobs and I want to see if anything came back."

"Sure dude, no problem, man." He handed the PC to me, and I logged into Hotmail.

4 new messages.

"Thank you very much for your interest in our company. Unfortunately at this period in time, we are not searching........"

"Thank you very much for your interest in our company. Unfortunately at this period in time, we are not searching........"

"Thank you very much for your interest in our company. Unfortunately at this period in time, we are not searching........"

"Hello, we are a Tokyo IT company. We saw your resume, and we may have a position for someone of your skill and experience. Can you come into our office tomorrow at 5pm for an interview?"

I stared at the message. It suddenly registered. My eyes popped open. A smile bubbled to my face, as I excitedly hit reply.

"Dear sir, I am available tomorrow at 5pm. I found the map to your company on the website. I will see you tomorrow at 5pm. Warm Regards, Firefly."

My heart skipped a beat as I clicked send. I leapt out of my seat, and high-fived the surprised American. I ran down the hall laughing like a mad-man. Japan was really giving me an emotional rollercoaster ride. Sure, I complained a bit at times, but the truth was, I loved every minute of it. I grabbed a notebook, and went back to the PC to study everything about the company that was interested in me.

However, absolutely nothing would prepare me for the completely crazy interview I would be put through at this company. It was like something out of a movie.

I'll try to write about it soon.

The scene : Tokyo, Japan. I'm living on borrowed money, cup noodles, rice balls and a pure sense of fierce determination to survive, and pay back my friends. After being fired from a job teaching English, I had completely run out of prospects. I became depressed with my dismal situation. Then I kicked my own ass, and went to an internet cafe and applied at 115 companies. I got one interview with an odd old Japanese guy, which I failed in short order. I got countless rejection notices from companies, but finally I had a request for an interview at an IT company. Now begins part 3.

I felt like Japan was testing me. Seeing if I had what it takes. One guy at martial arts often talked about the ''martial arts god'', who looks after people who come to Japan with the serious intent to learn martial arts. ''If you just commit yourself to martial arts, things will happen,'' he told me, as we sat on a train speeding through the Japanese countryside. ''You''ll find a way to stay. After a while, the martial arts god will say ''this guys got enough mettle to handle budo, and Japan. I better sort him out with a place to stay, a job, and a woman.'', and then you''ll be fine''.

His words echoed in my head, as I was doing internal somersaults of joy. An interview! For IT! I was happy beyond words. An IT job would surely pay more than an English teaching job. And I''m really good at IT. The interview will be easy. I can''t believe how lucky I am! I went around to all my friends at Sakura House, and told them of my good fortune with my job search. I called my friends and family at home, and told them a shortened version of the story you''ve been reading. At first they were shocked with what happened to me, but eventually were surprised and happy that I managed to get an interview. ''Good luck, we''re on your side!'' they encouraged me. Their warm words from hundreds of kilometers away warmed my heart and calmed my nerves.

I spent the next 5 hours into the night researching everything about the company. Management, services, products, contact details, location, goals. I went through hundreds of sample scenarios and questions in my head. I was ready for absolutely anything that could have happened. Except what happened.

I arrived to the station 2 hours before the interview. I found the office quickly with the map I had drawn onto paper. I walked around, and noted the distance and location of several surrounding train stations. I calculated the fastest and most efficient train route from my station. I looked at my watch. 15 minutes to go. My heart started beating slightly faster, as I remembered my friends and familys words of encouragement. 5 minutes. I stood in front of the office. Here we go. I walked into the building, and took the elevator to the 4th floor. I walked in, and picked up the reception phone with one clammy, nervous hand.

Hello, my voice cracked. I''m'' I have, an, interview. For a job. At 5pm. I gulped. Get it together, you fucking wuss. Come on.

Sure, please wait there. A friendly female voice chirped back. I selected a seat, and waited. It was only 5 minutes, but it felt like 10 years.

Finally, a man walked out. He was tall, and looked generally uncomfortable. He looked me up and down, and frowned. My internal organs shrunk slightly. Uh, I'm Shane. Uh... this way. Shane guided me into a meeting room. I smiled as gracefully as my nerves would allow, and managed to seat myself at the table without knocking over any plants or breaking any equipment. This is my final interview in Japan. Better make it a good one.

He stared at me from across the table. I returned his gaze with a uncertain, nervous smile. My blood pressure continued rising. For one irrational moment, I was worried that Shane could hear me sweating profusely. My throat went dry. My head became weightless, and threatened to depart from my shoulders and float back to Australia.

Suddenly, I was relaxed. I was calm, and controlled. My nervousness was immediately replaced with a cold determination, and intense feeling of confidence. I had only a moment to figure out what was happening to me, before Shane started talking.

Nice to meet you. Hm. I checked your resume again, and you didn't have quite as much experience as I remembered. I hope this interview won't be a waste of your time, he said in a reserved tone. I could tell he was having second thoughts after meeting me face to face. Previously, this statement and realisation would have frozen me into silence and inaction. However, inexplicably, I knew exactly what to say.

Shane, if I was in your position, I would probably think exactly the same thing. I said with a hint of a smile, and a calm, relaxed confidence. What I feel I should tell you though, is the experience and skills that I have. The skills that your clients need. Shane almost imperceptibility raised an eyebrow. In a detached way, my previous nervous persona tried to figure out what was going on.

I was browsing the jobs available section of company site after your email yesterday. I noticed a disproportionate trend towards requiring technicians with skill in these technologies, I listed various technologies from the website. Let me tell you about my experience in these areas. I described some project work I had done.

Shane asked me a few questions. My mind was so focussed, and working so hard that time just slowed to a crawl. I had a leisurely amount of time to consider the best answer among 5 different combinations my mind offered. After some consideration, I repeatedly selected the best of the 5, and replied as such. He asked me a few trick questions, but I could see them almost before he started talking. My previous nervous persona was becoming excited. This new, cool relaxed persona was nonplussed.

I finished talking. He finished questioning. He looked at me curiously. I evenly returned his stare. I could see him thinking. Oddly enough, I already knew what he would say.

Well, uh, hm. I think, you should probably meet the President of the company. Shane said, finally.

Right, I said, expecting this turn of events. When is he around? I asked.

Uhh, I think, uh, he is around tomorrow. About the same time. Uhhh. Shane said.

Alright, I'll come back tomorrow at 5pm. It was a pleasure meeting you. Thanks very much for your time. I said, shook Shane's hand, and left.

I walked outside, to feel the hot summer air on my face. I deeply inhaled, closed my eyes, and smiled. Thanks, god of martial arts, I said with genuine gratitude, as I began the walk back to the station.

Well that was easy. All I need to do now, is meet the President. I'm sure it will go just as smoothly.

I was very, very wrong.

So, I had a good interview with Shane. No, a GREAT interview. I felt really good about the whole job. I was sure that Shane liked the cut of my jib, and I was certain that meeting the President was a formality. A job offer was sure to follow. Once again, I was riding Japan's emotionalroller coaster , and I was again on top of the world, bouncing around and excited about my future prospects in this fascinating country. I returned home, and had a few drinks to celebrate with my victory. Who cares about 1,350 yen worth of beer? Soon I'll have a proper full-time paying job, with benefits. And maybe a bonus! Yeah. And probably a free computer. I wonder if I get a free phone? I drunkenly wondered as I passed out in bliss.

I woke up to a slight headache, but the same feeling of jubilation. Today is the day!! Today I get a job in Japan. I get to stay in Japan! My enthusiasm bubbled up from inside me. I tried not to get my hopes up. Don't count your chickens before they're hatched, and all that. But dammit, I felt it. This was it. All the signs pointed in the right direction, and that direction was a full time job in IT! The momentary lull in my enthusiasm overrode my hesitation, and I was bouncing around the room again. I forced myself to be still and sit down, and did whatever preparation I could. The hours dragged by like years, but finally, it was 4pm. Time to go claim what was mine. I borrowed a suit again from the same guy who was getting kind of shitty with me, and left.

I arrived at 4:50pm, and stood outside the office, watching people go in and out. I wonder when I'll be a part of that crowd? Tomorrow? Maybe next week. I hope they don't make me wait 2 weeks. I shook away the thought of trying to survive for 2 more weeks on cup noodles, empty interviews, and borrowed suits. I went up to the office, and waited until the time on the phone read 4:58pm. Not too early, but sharp, and on time. 4:58pm was a good time to call reception, I decided. I picked up the phone.

Hello, I said with confidence. This is Firefly, and I have an interview at 5pm with the president.

Oh! Ok. One moment please. A thin, attractive woman opened the door. Woow, I thought. I mentally shook myself and summoned back my professional veneer.

Hello. Nice to meet you. I'm Firefly. I smiled and extended my hand.

She returned my handshake with a soft moisturised hand, and smiled sweetly. FOCUS.

Please wait here. She directed me to a seat right next to the door.

I nodded graciously. Moments later, Shane from yesterday walked past.

Ohh...... Um... Hello. How are you? He said stiffly.

I'm great thanks. I'm very much looking forward to meeting the president. I said.

Yeah...... Well he is coming soon. So could you wait a bit? He asked.

Absolutely! I said, perhaps a bit too quickly.

Shane awkwardly excused himself and walked off. I took the opportunity to examine the office. It was a smallish office, seating around 12 people. It was mostly empty though, there were only four people. Out of those four, the thin, hot girl was talking on the phone. I wondered if she was a secretary. I forced my gaze away. There were a couple of other people working quietly. There was an odd atmosphere in the office; everything looked normal, but there seemed to be... something under the surface. I shrugged my shoulders in response to my suspicions. I didn't care. All I wanted to do was work there. I would do anything.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. 5:08pm. 10 minutes already? That was fast. I wonder if the president is running a bit late. I continued looking around the room.

5:19pm. Hm, the president must have been held up. No problem - I'm going to blow him away as soon as he walks in. It'll be the best interview he's ever seen. I smiled.

5:31pm. I ran out of things to look at. I caught myself staring at the hot girl. I deliberately looked at the ceiling.

5:35pm. I started to get a little concerned. I thought about walking over to Shane and asking him about the delay. I decided against it.

5:44pm. I started thinking about talking to Shane again. I coughed. I reluctantly stood, and walked around the corner to Shane's desk.

It's, um... I really don't mind waiting, or anything, but um.... uhh, should I do anything? Or just hang around? Or? I nervously asked. The last thing I wanted to do was offend my ally.

Oh, he's probably just been a bit held up. Don't worry about it. Uhhh.... just have a seat. Shane said.

Sure, ok, no problem. I'll be just over here. I sat down.

The clocks ticking somehow seemed to get louder. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I looked around the room. I looked at the hot girl. She caught me looking. I flicked my eyes away.

6:00pm. I've been sitting on a chair, waiting for an hour. Hm.

6:10pm. Did he forget the appointment? Is he coming? I'm starting to get a bit depressed. Maybe all of my excitement about getting a job was for nothing?

6:30pm. The hot girl left. Damn.

6:54pm. Is this some kind of joke? Are they waiting to see if I just leave by myself? I've been waiting nearly 2 hours. Is this part of the interview somehow? Surely not.

My thoughts were interrupted, as the door flew open. I immediately stood up. In a split second, I recognised the president of the company from a group photo pinned up on the notice board. Here it is, my time to shine. I extended my hand, and with a large, warm smile, I said :

Hello. Pleasure to meet you, my na... I was cut off, as he pushed his way past me, completely ignoring me. I was shocked into silence, frozen on the spot with my hand extended, looking like some kind of pathetic wax figure.

He walked over to his desk, sat down, and presumably, started checking his emails. I sat down, feeling dizzy. I briefly considered talking to Shane, but immediately decided against it. I'll just wait here, I thought. No problem.

7:10pm. The president was focused on writing some kind of document. Everyone else had left the office. It was just me, Shane, and the president, who was still completely ignoring me. I deeply sighed, as I felt my previous certainty of getting a job evaporating. I started to feel sick. How much money did I have left?

7:15pm. Shane stands up, and walks over to the presidents desk.

Uhh... he's been waiting... don't you want to... uhh... interview him? Shane tentatively probed.

What? Who? The president snapped. My heart sank.

Australian guy. Called Firefly. Seems pretty good with IT. Shane said.

The president paused for what seemed like a very long time. Finally he uttered a long, embattled sigh. Ok, fine. Whatever. Lets hurry up and do it then.

My previous concerns, worries and depression vanished, as I stood up with a smile on my face, and confidently walked to the table, and sat down in front of the two men.

Hello, pleasure to meet you. I said with a smile.

The president regarded me coldly, as though I was stopping him from doing something he really wanted to do. I internally frowned.

So. Firefly, from Australia, huh? He said.

Yes, thats right. I confirmed.

Soooooo.................... he paused.

I sat there, trying to look professional, when I was actually feeling stupid, like I'd been trodden on, and then made fun of.

Soo.... what do you do? He finally asked.

What do I do? Um, is that in reference to work? Personally? What do I do in Australia? or Japan? I tried to get more information to better answer the question.

Yes. He said.

Shit. Pull it together. Come on.

Well, in a personal sense, I came to Japan for martial arts. I also studied in Australia. Professionally, I worked in Australia doing IT. I gained experience and skills in various sectors of IT, I spent a few more moments explaining my skill and experience in IT. When I finally felt as though I had satisfactorily answered his general question, I stopped talking.

The president swivelled back and forth on his chair. It didn't seem as though he was paying attention. Why won't he at least look at me?

After the silence drew on for several more moments, Shane started to feel uncomfortable.

Aren't you going to, ask him anything? Shane asked quietly.

I did ask him something. The president said, defiantly.

I sat there and tried to gauge my chances of staying in Japan. I looked at the president spinning back and forth on his chair, and I felt my chances shrinking even further. Then, he kicked me while I was down.

Do you really want to do this? Shane asked, slightly pertubed.

Hmm... actually no. No, I don't really want to do this. The president decided, rolling his eyes and sighing. He fixed an apathetic look onto me. Can you like, come back some other day, or something?

I sat there, awash with emotion. My previous certainty of getting a job was crushed, and I felt upset, like I lost something important. I was angry too. After waiting more than 2 hours he just doesn't feel like continuing? Thats BULLSHIT. My anger flared up, but was washed away with grief and shame, as I realised I wouldn't be able to pay back my friends anytime soon. Then I was hit with a wave of regret, after I realised I spent all my food money on drinks last night. Shit. Shit, shit. SHIT.

Oh, I see. I restrained a sudden urge to fly across the table and grab him by his shirt, shake him and scream, you bastard, this was it, this is my chance in Japan, and you don't even give a shit? you don't even care? whats wrong with you? I was brought back to reality by Shane.

I'm really sorry, about all that, Shane said. The president looked out the window at nothing.

No problem. I.. guess you guys must be... tired. I'll just.... come back some other day. Nice to meet you. Thanks. Looking back, after I stood up, it was like I was dreaming. I robotically walked out. I was so emotional my motor functions weren't even working properly. I walked.

I walked, and walked. I was in a state of pure shock, depression, anger, fear, rage, depression, uncertainty, denial. All the emotions relentlessly attacking me. So I walked. I kept walking. I was vaguely aware of stopping for red lights. And walking on green lights. I walked. My head throbbed, but I kept walking. Very slowly, the emotions lost their edge. I kept walking. The emotions were still there, waiting for a chance to be aired out, and re-examined. I kept walking. The strength of the emotions lessened slightly. After some period of time, I stopped walking. My head still hurt, and my face was wet with tears of anger and disillusionment. I looked around, and realised I had no idea where I was. Uh-oh, I thought. I was tired, and my feet hurt. I checked my watch - 11:20pm. I'd been walking for nearly 4 hours. I asked the closet person where a station was, and I walked there, and got the train home. I collapsed into bed, my crushed hopes weighing down on me. I fell into a trouble sleep, to be awakened by another phone call the next morning at 8:30am.....

To be continued.

I jerked awake. I groaned and made a grab for the phone, which was lost somewhere in the covers. I swore as I fumbled about in an early morning haze. After 10 seconds of ringing, right before voicemail, I managed to pick up the call.

Hello? I said.

Hello is this Firefly? Came a vaguely familiar voice. A moment later, I recognised him as Shane.

Yes, this is Firefly.

This is Shane. Look, I'm really sorry about yesterday. Bill was really tired. Bill? Oh the president. He was tired? Pfft. Poor bastard, I thought sarcastically.

Uhm, no problem. Sure. I crammed down a wave of annoyance.

Well I'm calling because we might need your help today. We have an important project at a client site today. Are you busy? Shane asked.

I woke up fast.

Sure, I have some time today, I said. I felt a shimmer of excitement, but mostly a sense of resignation after all the recent events. I'd put in so much work, and I've had so many let-downs. Whats going to be different about this opportunity. I sighed to myself. Come on, lets give it a good shot at least. If I'm going down, it'll be in a blazing fire of glory.

Can you be at Kamiyacho station at 9:00am? He asked.

Hang on, I looked down at my watch. 8:43am. Oh, shit. Um, can we make it 9:30am? I'm not sure I can make it.

Sorry, you have to be there at 9am. Thats when Bill will be coming past the station. If you want a chance, thats the best I can offer you. Shane said apologetically.

17 minutes?! To borrow a suit, iron a shirt, brush my teeth, have some food(scratch that, no time for food), pack my bag, get to the station, and then go to Kamiyacho? The trip from Tsukiji to Kamiyacho takes 11 minutes, and thats not including waiting for the train. HOLY SHIT. This is it. I began to scramble around for my things as I talked to Shane.

Uh, alright! 9am. I'll do my very best to be there. Thanks very much! See you soon, goodbye, I said with the phone wedged between my shoulder and ear, as I ran about my tiny apartment.

Ok. See you later. Shane said, and hung up.

I continued running about. My heart beat faster, I broke into a light sweat, and things slowed down slightly as my body helpfully provided me with a shot of adrenaline. I was simultaneously doing 5 things at once for a few minutes, and then ran out in my boxers and banged on my friends door.

Hey man, open up. I need to borrow your suit again. I bounced from foot to foot.

FUCK OFF. He said.

Come on you bastard, I need it. Hurry up. Come on. My voice raised an octave or two as the time ticked away.

Look, you Australian mooching prick, this is the last time. Do you get it? He said gruffly.

Yeah yeah, whatever. Come on, open up.

He flung the door open and threw the unwashed suit at me. I caught it, paused, and looked at it before gingerly sniffing it.

Take it or leave it. Preferably fucking leave it. He deadpanned.

No, it's fine. It's great. Thanks man, I owe you big time, I said as I jumped about the hallway pulling on the pant legs. I picked up my bag, and ran off at top speed with the shirt flapping open. I ran down into the station, and out of luck, managed to get straight onto the train going to Kamiyacho with no waiting time. The doors closed, and I stood on the train, in front of tens of horrified Japanese. I looked down, and realised my shirt was completely open. Oops. I turned to face the wall and buttoned up. I had 11 minutes to cool down before the doors opened at Kamiyacho, and I bounded out from the station. I got up onto street level, and checked my watch. 9:03am. Oh shit. I hope he hasn't left.

Shock set in. He might have left already. I started sweating more. I stood there, looking as together as I could. I rested my bag on the ground, and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I looked terrible. I tried to fix my hair with my hands, and adjust my suit to be as clean cut and neat as possible. I looked at my watch.

9:07am. I gulped.

I looked at my phone.

Full reception. No missed calls. No emails. No voicemail messages.

I bet he's left. Bastard. Unbelievable. I waited 2 hours for him. He couldn't wait 3 minutes?! I considered calling the office.

9:10am.

My stomach grumbled. Hungry.

9:15am.

I snapped. I called the office.

Hello, can I please speak to Shane. I asked.

One moment please, someone said. Music. I stood, sweating and shell-shocked in front of Kamiyacho station. Music. I'm sorry, Shane is not available right now. Can I take a message?

Please ask him to call me. Thanks, I said, hanging up.

I continued to wait. I reflected on the fact I've been doing a lot of waiting recently.

I don't mind waiting normally. It gives me time to think, imagine, come up with new ideas, work on problems. However, every moment I was waiting, was one less second I could spend working on a way to stay in Japan. A bead of sweat ran down my face. I impatiently wiped it away.

At 9:30am, a car pulled up in front of me. The occupant reached across, and opened the door. I looked down, and recognised Bill from last night. Bill?! He's LATE?! I was simultaneously intensely relieved that he came, and extremely irritated he kept me waiting AGAIN.

I got into the car.

Hi there. Sorry I'm late. Crazy morning. Sorry about last night too, eh. I had been working for 20 hours straight and I was totally spaced out. He said, as he pulled into the Tokyo traffic.

Oh, I said. I didn't really accept his apology. I suppose he's not to blame for all the other crap I went through. Cheer up a bit, why don't you. Don't worry about it. I said, finally.

He brightened up a bit. So, you just got here huh? How are you finding it so far? He asked, excitedly.

So far? I reflected back on my experiences. It's been.... pretty crazy.

Isn't it?!! Tokyo is a crazy place. It's totally nuts. Most of the people are crazy too. Look at that old guy over there. He pointed out an old Japanese guy with white hair walking slowly down the street. He's totally crazy. But the weird thing is, if you put him in a foreign country, after a few years, he'll be normal!! He said quickly with a big smile on his face. Hm, actually, maybe not him. But most Japanese people, anyway. You take them out of the Japanese box, and they can see the system for what it really is. Bullshit.

I nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable. I wondered what he meant by 'the system'. He continued to brief me on his views on Japanese society.

We arrived at the clients, and we went upstairs. I was treated to a brief glimpse of tens of people working in an office. It felt good to be inside a company. I could feel the hum of commerce, and I felt incrementally closer to getting a job and staying in Japan.

We continued upstairs, and we walked into a server room. The hum of server fans and the slightly warmer air greeted me as I walked over. Bill's face blanked out, and he walked over to the servers and started working. I peered over his shoulder, and tried to get an idea of what was going on.

Hmmmmmm, Bill hmmed.

I sto

od there, trying to look helpful. Which is quite hard to do, when you're not doing anything, and you don't have anything to do. Bill continued working in silence for about 25 minutes.

Whats with this stupid error, Bill said under his breath. I got a glimpse of the error before he clicked it away.

Should I, um, do anything? Can I help you somehow? I asked him, thinking about the error I just saw.

Nah, you can't do anything. Just wait a minute. I have to fix this first. This is what kept me up yesterday - this goddamn error. Piece of shit, I don't get it. It worked fine on a different machine. Bill was barely concentrating on what he was saying. I did some research and I thought this would fix it. But it didn't, he growled, as his focus returned to the server.

I saw a spare computer in another corner of the server room. Um, excuse me, I started. I gulped as he looked at me with fierce irritation, but pushed myself to continue. Do you mind if I use that computer over there for a bit?

That computer? Uh, yeah whatever sure. He said with obvious impatience. He jogged over and put in a username and password and logged me in, then promptly returned to the server. I walked over, took off my jacket, and once again rolled up my sleeves, as I dived into Google. The mouse cursor shot about the screen as I ran some initial keywords and the error message. 5,000 pages popped up. I narrowed it down. 4,000 pages. I added the type of server and hardware. 1,200 pages. I added some more keywords relevant to the problem. I continued narrowing down the search piece by piece. Finally, I came across a page where someone talked about a possible solution, and gave me a couple more keyboards to work with. I ran those with my original search. After 10 minutes of intense googling, I had a possible solution.

I looked at Bill. I could tell he was going to be irritated by my interruption. I interrupted him.

Um... Bill? I ventured.

He whipped around again and looked at me. The irritation was turning into anger. Uhoh. WHAT.

I've.. found something... I'm not sure if it'll help but, um, why don't you give it a shot. I nervously showed him the results of my research. His eyes narrowed.

I tried that. He snapped.

Um, I'm sorry, but I think you tried something a bit different. Can I have a shot at it? I asked.

He stood in front of the server guarding it like a leprechaun guards a pot of gold. You can watch what I do, I said in an effort to be re-assuring.

He slowly moved aside. ....alright.. he said hesitantly.

I entered in the new settings, and I clicked enter. I ran a test. The server processed. A message came up on the server. We both peered in to look...........

Gotta run for now. I'll try to write more soon.

Connection Successful. You may now share information between domains. My cursor wavered over the Ok button.

Bill and I both looked at each other. He blinked, and coughed. Hmm. Not bad. He said suspiciously.

Not bad? I queried.

Pretty good. He said.

I beamed.

After I managed to fix that problem, he set me a list of other tasks to do. I went around happily working through my tasks, with a really good feeling about what I just managed to do on the server. The kind of feeling you get when you just know that something good is coming your way.

As I was working through my list, I occasionally made an idiot out of myself by trying to communicate in Japanese. This particular company housed a number of very impatient and strong willed individuals, who in hindsight were not going to be the most appropriate Japanese teachers.

I went up to one office lady, swallowed, and dove in with my best Japanese.

sumasen, chodo jiakan aru ka? A best rough translation would be something like sscuse me do you have just right time, huh?

She looked at me. I looked back expectantly.

What? She said in hard English.

Oh, um, I just wanted to know if you had some time, because, I need to look at your... I replied in English.

Was that Japanese? She pointedly asked.

Yeah. Well, um, it was supposed to be... I started.

She cut me off again. It was terrible. She said, her lip curling up slightly. In the future, you should say 'sumimasen, chotto computer wo haiken shitemo yoroshii desu ka?' Her clear polite Japanese bounced right off my head.

Right! Thanks. Uhh.... sumiashen, uuhhhh, I desperately tried to copy her.

Forget it, I don't have time for this. Just get on the computer. And HURRY UP. She said, throwing down a file and walking off to presumably go make herself a coffee.

As concealed as possible, I peered around the office to see if anyone else witnessed my harsh Japanese lesson. Well, anyone who might report it back to Bill anyway. Everyones head was down, working busily. I guess I'm alright.

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, which turned into a feeling of intense pressure as the office lady came back with her coffee and stood over me at the computer, clearly waiting for me to finish. She started tapping her foot.

Um, chodo mati kudas sai I said. (pleash waitashecond)

She exhaled through her teeth, and shook her head. I waited for my next Japanese lesson, but it appeared as though she'd given up already. I finished up my work and quickly moved on.

I noticed that I had worked through everything on the list. I looked at my watch, only 11:45, just before lunch. Great. I bet Bill will be happy everything was done so quickly.

I returned to the server room with my list of tasks, each one ticked off.

Hi Bill, I finished all of my tasks. I said proudly as I handed him the sheet of paper.

He pulled his attention away from the server, and looked down at the paper. His face twisted up. That was supposed to take you all day. Shit, why'd you finish it so quickly?

Oh, I, um, I stammered, not having a good answer to the question.

Hm. Don't worry about it, I guess. Just go back and see if anyone is having problems and try to fix it. Bill pointed at the door.

I turned and walked out, feeling a bit depressed. That wasn't the reaction I was expecting, after completing a days work in an hour and a half. Hm.

I wandered around the floors, getting to know the office and the people that worked there. Without the pressure of having a list to go through, I talked to many more people who were much more friendly and warm than the initial user. I managed to fix many problems, made some friends along the way. Three people had offered to make me a cup of tea or coffee for the work I performed. What a nice place, I thought to myself. I could definitely spend more time here.

In that office in central Tokyo, being able to offer my skills to help fix problems for people was very satisfying and enjoyable for me in a way thats hard to explain. Maybe it was because I felt my karma bank balance growing - if I help enough people, surely I'll get a job! Or maybe it was the feeling of somehow knowing I was on the right track. That at this point in my life, being there, and doing that work was EXACTLY what I was supposed to be doing.

In any case, I knew things were out of my hands now. I just had to be friendly, do the best work I could and let the chips fall where they may.

Soon, it was nearing 6:30pm, and things were winding up. I had gone around fixing many problems, and people were talking about me very positively. Bill even happened to come down while I was having a friendly chat to one of the company's directors, as I fixed a problem that had been bugging him for weeks. All in all, a very good day. Bill called me over for a moment.

Hey. I was watching you today. You did a pretty good job. He praised me.

I beamed again. Thanks, Bill.

So, do you want a job or something? Bill asked, remarkably offhandedly.

I cocked my head slightly, the words not sinking in.

A job. Do you want one? He repeated, loudly.

Yes, that would be nice. I politely smiled, and internally did a 20 step gymnastic routine.

Ok. Why don't you talk to Shane about the details. Drop by the office tomorrow morning. Bill said, turning away to collect his equipment.

I stood there. I could feel the whole world revolving around me. This was a major turning point in my life. Then I thought, actually hang on, what about salary? Benefits? Holidays? Hm, I mused. Maybe I'm not out of the woods just yet. I guess Shane will give me the details tomorrow

I collected my things and Bill gave me a lift to the station.

You did a good job today. I'll see you tomorrow. He said, as he dropped me off. I nodded, smiled, and walked down into the station.

On the trip back I was thinking in detail about the kind of salary and job I could expect. I came over to Japan to study Martial Arts - if I don't have enough time and money to go to class, the whole thing is almost pointless. I frowned as I sat on the train. I'll have to work everything out. I'll need to make... a budget. How much will everything cost? How much will I need to survive?

I returned back home, and got out a notebook, and started listing everything that cost me money in Japan. How much would I need to pay my rent, go to martial arts, have a small amount of spending money, pay my mobile phone bill so my family can call me, buy some clothes, pay back my friends, buy enough food, essentially, how much would I need to scrape by and survive in Tokyo.

After calculating everything, I came up with a monthly figure. 314,000 yen per month.

I lied down on my futon and stretched out. I opened the window, and the warm Tokyo air spilled into my room. I went to sleep with the number 314,000 yen floating around my head.

I woke up the next day. The guy down the hall wouldn't loan me his suit. Shit. I put on my best casual gear, hoping it wouldn't matter since I'd already gotten a verbal job offer.

I made my way to the office. I walked through the door at 9:15 to give the 9am people a chance to settle in.

Shane came over to greet me, and I noticed his eyes squinting as he critically looked me up and down.

No suit today? He said.

Uh, right. It's in the wash.

I lied.

Shane raised his eyebrows and led me to a small meeting room.

I spoke to Bill last night, and we're ready to make you an offer. Shane said with a smile.

My eyes widened slightly. Thats very good news, I said. 314,000 yen. 314,000 yen.

Looking at your skill and experience, we've come to a number and a package we think is reasonable. Shane continued.

314,000 yen. Thats all I needed. Thats a very reasonable salary for a Foreign Tokyo IT worker. They're an established company, I'm sure they'll offer at least that. Just 314,000 yen.

Your starting monthly salary will be... Shane said. Time froze.

314,000 yen. 314,000 yen. 314,000 yen. 314,000 yen. 314,000 yen. 314,000 yen.

270,000 yen. Shane said. The weight of his statement slammed into me, leaving me stunned.

Without at least 314,000 yen, there's almost no point to being in Japan. I won't be able to do what I came for, I sadly realised. I might even have to work extra hours. How can this be happening.

Shane looked at me, trying to gauge my response. Does that seem reasonable? He asked.

Well, um, I very much appreciate the job offer, I sighed in disappointment, but tried to stay bright. So that means that I'll get 270,000 yen in my bank account every month, right?

Actually, after various taxes, the real number is probably closer to 240,000 yen. Shane said.

240,000 yen. What did I do to deserve this? I thought in emotional turmoil. That wasn't even a fair offer. I had to pay 68,000 yen just in rent. Before I do anything, I'm down to 172,000 yen. Which doesn't go very far in Tokyo at all.

I sat in silence for a moment. An intense feeling of sadness washed across my face. I bit my lip.

Thank you very much for the offer. I'll think about it, and let you know. I said, as I began to put on my jacket.

Shane looked surprised, as though he was expecting me to accept on the spot. Sure. Have a think about it, and give me a call.

I nodded, smiled, and walked out of the office, feeling lost and alone.

10:45 am. I sat on the floor in the middle of my apartment in Tokyo, listening to the crickets chirping. I shifted uncomfortably. The neighborhood seemed strangely quiet. I dimly realised this was because almost everyone was at work, being productive, contributing to society, helping clients, getting paid..... A fly buzzed around the room. I frowned at it, and at myself. I needed some external input.

I walked out of my little guest house. There was a public phone outside a shopping center that I occasionally used to call overseas. The first time I made an overseas call, it took me 10 minutes to figure it out. It's surprisingly difficult. First you have to put in money, then dial. I was fine up to this point. Next was the number to access an overseas call. I went through every permutation of 00, 0011, 001, 01, 0001, 00011. None worked. It just kept spitting back out my 100 yen coin, as if it was mocking me. I don't want your stinkin money, gaijin. I kept going until a kindly old man noticed my frustration, and walked over.

Phone ok? They asked.

Phone no ok!! Phone no ring. FUCK. I said.

Ah. This phone no ring to oversea. It only Japan phone. He said kindly. He pointed at a small sticker, where I could only understand the word Japan in kanji, and nothing else.

He gestured me over and showed me a different phone. This phone ok. Have good day! He said warmly. I thanked him many times, and spent another 3 minutes messing about with the international dialing codes. Finally made that call, by the way.

I entered the small, odd smelling booth, and picked up the handset. By Australian standards, the handset was impeccably clean. By Japanese standards it was pretty dirty. I spared a second to wonder how I would fit again into Australian society. It's only been a few weeks over here, but I'm already taking many of Japan's comforts for granted. I dialed home.

Hello? came a voice.

Hi Dad. I said.

Oh hello there. How are you going? Is everything alright? Did you get the job? Do you have enough money to eat? He asked in succession.

I cleared my throat. Actually, well, I'm fine. I got a job offer, but it was pretty low. Lower than I would need to survive and do what I'm here for.

Your kung fu stuff? Dad asked.

Kung fu is Chinese, Dad. So I'm feeling a bit drained right now. I feel like I've run a marathon, I'm absolutely exhausted, I'm running on zero, but the finish line is two steps away. I also feel like theres a guy waiting to kick me in the balls once I finally cross the line. Actually he'd kick me in the balls every month on pay-day. I lamented.

I imagined my Dad nodding his head, and reflecting on my problem.

Well... theres no reason why you couldn't get another job offer, My Dad began.

Thats impossible, I complained, missing the point entirely. Don't you remember I told you about all of the interviews I went to?

Yes, but theres no reason that one of those companies can't call you out of the blue and offer you a generous package. It sounds like these guys are taking the piss anyway with this low offer. Dad said.

I paused for a second while his words sunk in.

You're telling me to lie to them? And possibly mess up my only chance of getting a job? I shot.

I didn't tell you to do anything. It's just a possible thing you might decide to say. He returned.

My eyebrows furrowed with stress. That would be a risky proposition. At any point, these guys could withdraw their offer, and I'd be completely out in the cold. And on the fast track back to Australia. Argh. What to do.

I don't know Dad... I'm not sure I could do that. I said, depressed.

Well best of luck either way mate. Let me know if you need a lift from the airport. He offered.

Thanks... but I'm hoping I won't need a lift from the airport for a while. Talk to you soon. Bye, Dad. I hung up the phone, deep in thought.

Frankly, I'm a pretty bad liar. I'm by nature an honest person, and it's hard for me to look someone in the eye, and tell them something I know is false.

But, they did try to mess me around with this low offer.... the little devil Firefly sitting on my left shoulder said.

Thats not an excuse to lie. Besides, what if you piss them off and they withdraw their offer? Then we could be really screwed. The little Firefly clad in white sagely whispered in my ear.

As often happens, the little devil Firefly hopped over to my other shoulder, wound up, and unceremoniously drop kicked angel Firefly.

Time to make the call. The devil Firefly instructed.

I sighed and picked up the phone. I put in my card, and dialed the office number from memory. I asked to speak to Shane.

uuhhh, hello? Shanes voice.

Hi, this is Firefly.

Oh, yes, hello. Have you thought about the offer? Shane asked, somewhat nervously. (See? He knows its a low-ball offer. He's nervous. Stick it to them. The devil Firefly whispered venomously.)

Yes, I have, I'm very grateful and I'd like to accept it....

Oh, thats great, Shane said excitedly.

However, I continued, I'd like to discuss some things in a bit more detail.

Oh. Really? Shane deflated. What kind of things?

The package, the job, the responsibilities, those kind of things. Can I arrange for a meeting with you and Bill? I asked.

Hang on a minute. Shane put me on hold.

I waited for 3 or 4 minutes. Irritation bubbled up again. I relaxed as best as possible. Just as I was wondering how long I'd be waiting this time, Shane returned.

Tell you what, we're excited that you're joining, so we want to take you out to dinner to celebrate. Shane said.

Thats great, but I do want to discuss things before signing a contract. If we can have a discussion at dinner, it would be great to join you. I said.

Uhhhh, sure I guess thats no problem. Uhhh, sure. Shane coughed nervously. So, lets meet at Shibuya at 7. We'll take you to a nice Italian restaurant.

Great. I look forward to seeing you there. I hung up.

My suspicions were confirmed - it was a lowball offer, and now they're going to try to butter me up at a nice restaurant. We'll see about that.

I arrived at Shibuya at 7pm to be met by Shane and Bill at the station. They warmly greeted me and shook my hand, and then slapped me on the back in a friendly way as we took off towards the restaurant. They were laughing, smiling, joking and happy. I joked along, but I wasn't buying it.

We got to the restaurant and sat down at a nice table. They ordered a meal for me. I glimpsed the price : it was a 3,800 yen set meal. Recently, to save money, I'd been eating 5 riceballs a day, costing about 150 yen each. I was eating through 750 yen in one day, and they just ordered me one meal worth 5 days of food. I pushed the menu away from me.

After eating, and laughing some more, Bill stopped, and stared right at me. There was a very noticable shift from friendly and warm, to all business. So. Bill began somewhat coldly. I believe you had a question about the package.

Shane and Bill both became silent, and stared at me. I think I would have been very intimidated if I didn't know what was going on. There was silence, during which time I was supposed to feel uncomfortable. I didn't.

Right. I want

ed to let you know that I have received another offer from a different company. I said, slowly.

A look of surprise flashed across Shane and Bill's face. It was gone quickly from Bill's face. It lingered a moment longer on Shane's. (Yeah, thats right, bitches, the devil Firefly helpfully added.)

They've offered me 400,000 yen. Actually.

Bill chewed his teeth. His mouth turned into a scowl.

Alright. And? Bill said, coldly and aggressively.

Time to get this pointing in the direction I want, I thought.

Well actually, I've had a chance to work with you, and see your office and the kind of people you have working there. (And there is a hot secretary, devil Firefly pointed out.) And I really like what I see. I like the people there, and you seem to be doing interesting work, at interesting clients. I could really get into that kind of work.

Shane and Bill looked at me suspiciously. Fuck. I began lightly sweating.

This other company is a much larger and more established company. I coughed, nervously. Um, the other company offering me the job, I mean. They're bigger. And, probably um, they're also, um, I started to trail off. Uhoh. Bring it together.

I mentally slapped myself. My life in Japan from this point forward depends on the next thing to come out of my mouth.

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... I said.

They both stared flatly at me. Very flatly.

So I would be very keen to find some kind of arrangement where I could feel comfortable at your company. I came to Japan to do martial arts, and it would be very difficult for me to live in Japan, which has a much higher cost of living, and participate in my classes on the package on offer. So for that reason alone, I would really be forced to accept the offer from the other company.

Bill continued to stare at me. He knows I'm lying. I held back a gulp.

I really like small companies. I said, suddenly inspired. The variety of work and having various interesting responsibilities is very exciting for me. If we could work out some kind of deal that would allow me to do what I came for in Japan, I would much prefer to make a big difference in a small company, than be a cog in the wheel of a larger company.

Shane looked at Bill, and then suddenly raised his hands in a surrender motion. Your call. Shane withdrew.

Bill raised an eyebrow. I stole a look at my meal - the equivalent to 5 days of food, and I smiled nervously.

It felt like an eternity, as Bill eyes burned into mine, searching out any hint of a fallacy. I returned his gaze as best as I could, but I could feel myself losing it. I had a sudden impulse to leave, before I was found out. The muscles in my legs tensed up, ready to walk right out the door, and out of Japan.

400,000 yen? Bill said. Thats a bit much.

Yes, I was surprised as well, I lied.

Bill opened his mouth, and said.....

How about 350,000 yen? Bill said. Shane's eyes widened.

HAHAHA ! BINGO WOOOOOOOOOO

Well, I pretended to muse, That seems pretty reasonable, I think. I'm pretty sure that would allow me to do martial arts and live. It is lower than 400,000 yen, I redundantly pointed out. But I would much prefer to work for you guys rather than a large company. I accept.

Bill's beady eyes streched back as his cold suspicious look turned into a triumphant smile. I could see his happiness at 'grabbing me' from a larger company at a cheaper rate. These little signs foreshadowed what was to come later.

In any case, for now everyone was happy. I was relieved and overjoyed that I had finally found a job. Bill was happy that he stole me from a larger company. Shane was happy because Bill was happy. We all ate, drank, laughed and celebrated what was going to become a successful business relationship - for 3 months anyway.

Anyway, we all left the restaurant, drunk, stupid and happy. We stumbled around outside for a while talking about nothing.

Then Bill said, So, when can you start?

Whats today, Thursday? I don't know, how about tomorrow? I said, keen to start contributing and making a difference.

Tomorrow?! Bill exclaimed. We need time to make the contracts and all that kind of bullshit. Why don't you start on Monday?

Oh, um, yeah I suppose that would be fine. I replied, a bit forlorn.

By the way, why do you look like shit? Bill asked.

His words jarred me from my drunkenness, and I looked at him, shocked.

Your clothes, they're terrible. You call them business clothes? Why didn't you wear something else? Bill continued.

Uhh... Well I didn't.... um, the suit... that, um... I burned red with shame at being caught with no money and shitty fashion sense.

Hang on, you didn't have anything, did you? Bill caught on fast. If nothing else, Bill was a sharp guy.

I stood there, frowning, unsure how best to react.

Bill fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He counted off 5 sheets of 10,000 yen - about $500 US. He extended his cash-filled hand. Go get yourself some respectable clothes.

I looked at the wad of cash in his hand. I pushed it away. No thanks, I don't need charity. I'll work for my money.

Bill looked confused. No, this is an advance from your salary. You didn't think I was giving you the money did you?

I stood my ground, unwilling to change my position.

Look just take it. It's coming off your salary, and I think you need it now. Here. He prodded me a few times with the money.

I stood looking at it. Well, it's an advance from my salary, I reasoned. It's my money. Theres no problem taking it, right? I reluctantly held out my hand and claimed the money. Well..... I suppose it's ok. Thanks a lot, thats really helpful. I said.

Bill smiled.

We drifted back to the station, and I promised to show up on Monday morning. I went home, and immediately paid back all my friends and told them about the good news. They were all supportive and happy for me. I went to sleep a happy man.

I woke up the next morning with a direction and a purpose for the first time in months. I threw some clothes on, and went shopping. I bought a couple of cheap shirts (available from various stalls and crappy shops around Tokyo). They're functional, and they look pretty normal (if not a bit flimsy), but they start to discolour and fall apart after a few months as I later discovered. Next I found some cheap pants, a workable belt and some ties that weren't too cheesy (but were still fairly cheesy). All put together, I looked like the perfect disposable salaryman. I nodded in confirmation at my reflection in a store mirror, and spent most of the remaining money in that shop.

The weekend passed in a flash. I turned up for work at 8:45am Monday morning, dressed to be passable. I walked in and met a couple more people. Looking back, these people were very forgettable, because within a few weeks, they would all be gone. They were quickly replaced with new, smiling faces, who would quickly burn out, and be replaced again. For all sorts of terrible reasons, the whole company was a revolving door for employees and clients, but I stood there decked out in my cheap attire, pleased as punch to be there.

I selected an empty desk and sat down. One of the guys setup an account for me, and I started downloading software and customising my PC. I was filled with jubilation - it was such a big novelty for me to get my very own phone, and computer. I even got my own filing cabinet, which I quickly filled with various stationary.

Within a couple of days I had once again established myself as a knowledge-base for various products, and people occasionally asked me for help. A few days later, one of the staff members called me over and asked me a question about Outlook. When he pointed to something on the screen, I caught a glimpse of the email he was writing. I've always been an extremely fast reader, and I absorbed a whole paragraph in one shot.

.........haven't told any clients that I am leaving. All my work I had to complete is finished under the relevant client directories. I will be available for a couple of weeks after my final date to answer questions and...........

I blinked. He noticed the email and quickly minimised it. I advised him on the solution to his problem, and returned to my desk troubled. I didn't want to ask him about the email, since it was obviously secret. I looked around the room at the various staff members, and I wondered why he was quitting. I would later find out his predecessor had quit within 3 months. He was a relative veteran at 9 months.

Anyway, my training began awkwardly. There was no formal training process, but fortunately I picked things up quickly. One day, I was taken to a client site by Bill. We were setting up a rack filled with equipment in the middle of the city. I'll never forget the name of the building - the KY building. Heh.

We walked in, and examined the rack. We made a quick plan as to the work we needed to get through. Or more accurately, Bill wrote down a list of the most borings tasks for me to do, and told me to go and do it. After a while, the client came over. A tall, sharp warm man who made me feel welcome.

Hello, nice to meet you. He said, thrusting his arm out. I caught his hand in a firm handshake. I'm Trevor.

Bill stood there uncomfortably as Trevor and I exchanged pleasantries. Trevor eventually excused himself, citing some urgent work he needed to do.

After Trevor was safely out of hearing distance, I said to Bill, Wow. He seems like a very nice guy. I'm looking forward to working here.

Bill grinned in a twisted kind of way. Yeah... and I'm looking forward to find more ways to screw him out of more money!! Bill laughed out loud at his own joke.

What?! I thought with a start. Bill looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to laugh. Feeling dirty, I offered a forced chuckle.

Bill turned back to work, and I stood there full of conflicting emotions. Over the next few months, these feelings would only get stronger as I discovered the kind of people they were, and their ideas on acceptable business practice.

One morning I was a few minutes late for work (no, this was a different day to the coffee spraying incident). Shane sauntered over to my desk.

He cleared his throat as he leaned on my partition, in a perfect image of the boss from Office Space. Morning, Firefly."

; He cleared his throat again.

I was putting down my bag and turning on my computer.

Uh, good morning Shane. How are you?

Uhhhhhhh...... do you know... what time it is? Shane ignored my question, and cleared his throat again.

I looked at the time on my PC. It's 9:05. I said.

Uhhhhhh.... yeah. And what time are you supposed to be here? Shane said, while clearing his throat simultaneously.

I frowned. 9am? I asked.

Right. He fixed me with an extremely awkward half smile, and tapped his watch 3 times, and cleared his throat. 9am. he said.

An awkward silence hung in the air. I looked at him. He half-smiled at me, as though expecting to share a laugh with me at how late I was, and how ridiculous it was for me to 5 minutes late. I flatly returned his stare.

Don't worry, I already plan to stay back 5 minutes to make up for my tardiness. I said, devoid of any emotion.

Shane nodded, apparently satisfied, cleared his throat and returned to his desk. Management at it's finest, I thought sarcastically.

I had many problems with them over the first few weeks. But since I was very grateful for my job when I was desperate for money and employment, I was very nice about all our disagreements. I was always very calm and relaxed, and I made a point to take the blame for everything, even when I was clearly in the right.

However just a few short months after I joined, we had our first major clash....

More next time.

It was a Thursday. Bill and I were working at the office of a clothing shop in Shibuya. I was configuring an antivirus server that would automatically deploy antivirus clients to all of the computers on the network.

Hows it going? Bill asked, peering over my shoulder.

Yeah, it's fine. I'm almost done. How are you going? I asked.

Well, Bill's face scrunched up. Bit of a problem really, but I think I've got it. Bill said.

Ok. Well it's almost 5:30. I need to leave soon to make my train to my Martial Arts class. If you don't mind, I'll leave as soon as I'm finished. I said.

Bill grunted.

My shift really went until 6pm, but I had an agreement with Bill and Shane that I would leave early twice a week at 5:30pm. In return, I would work to 6:30pm or 7pm twice a week. I needed to board the 6:20 train from Shinjuku to make the class.

I was excited about the class tonight. Thursday was my absolute favourite night of the week. Togara-sensei was leading the class, there was a small and devoted number of students, and we got plenty of personal attention. The dojo was amazing. When you walk in, you can feel the authentic martial arts emanating from every corner of the room. The air in the dojo was crisp, but tinged with the scent of body odour, pain and proper form. On the floor, laid springed tatami mats, so we could bounce and throw each other around like rag dolls and only be slightly worse for wear. This was very fun for students, but life preserving for the poor bastard who Togara-sensei was using as his personal bitch for that particular night. Togara-sensei was strict and didn't fuck around, as countless bruises, strains, sprains and aches can attest.

The clock struck 5:28, as I finished the final settings for the antivirus package. I walked over to a machine, and turned it on. A smile spread across my face as the software downloaded itself, executed, and automatically installed itself. I did a couple of tests, and confirmed it was working fine. I went back and instructed the server to install on all the machines.

I'm done. The next time everyone logs in, they're going to have the new version of AV. I'll come back tomorrow morning to check the installs and make sure it doesn't cause any problems.

Oh... um, you're leaving already? Bill asked, concerned.

Right. Tonight is Thursday, I have my class. It's already 5:32, so I have to run. Do you need me to do anything else? I asked, zipping up my bag containing my PC.

Anything else? Um... well I'm still having this problem here... Bill gestured to the server screen.

Alright. Can I quickly help you somehow? I asked.

I'm not sure. Do you know whats wrong? Bill asked, angling the screen towards me.

I peered in for a look. Hmmm.. I said, I don't know, I'd need to sit down and spend some more time on it. If it doesn't work, how about a re-install? I advised. I checked my watch. Look mate, I'm sorry but I really have to run. If you really need help, give me a call.

Bill hesitated, and glanced at the server. Alright... He said, haltingly.

I grabbed my bag and took off at a jog. I felt free and happy. I finished my work, it worked perfectly, and I was going to my favourite class. I bounded through the office, and rode the elevator down to the ground floor. I remembered a martial arts technique I was having problems with last week, and I was sure I could nail it tonight. If not, Togara-sensei can show me exactly what to do. I cut through the crowd of faceless salarymen, and headed down into the train station. It was a long train ride to the dojo, but it was worth every minute. Since I was riding around peak-time, I had to stand. I didn't care - I enjoyed Thursday night so much, I would have walked there. I can't get a big stupid grin off my face.

The train is crowded. My phone rings. Angry glances from surrounding passengers. It's Bill.

Hello Bill, hows the server? I ask.

Not so good. It's still not working. Bill said.

Oh.... OK. Well, I'm already on the train for my class. Sorry about that. I said. People continued to look at me with angry faces, upset I was talking on the phone on the crowded train.

Bill paused for a moment.

Can you come back? Bill asked.

My breath stuck in my throat.

What? Come back? I exclaimed.

I want to get this working tonight. Maybe you can fix it. Bill said.

It was my turn to look angry and upset. I really want to go to this class... I promised someone I would be their training partner. Is this really important? Can I look at it tomorrow? If I come back, I will definitely miss my class.

Can you come back? Bill repeated.

A wave of anger boils up. I grit my teeth. After a long pause, I said : Ok. Fine. I'm coming back.

Before Bill could reply, I hung up the phone in disgust. The doors slid open, and I trudged to the other side of the tracks. I caught the train back. I stormed out of the station. I re-entered the office, and went back into the server room. Bill was still looking at the server. He stood when he saw me come in.

Let me have a look then. I said, failing to conceal my feelings of frustration.

I sat down and looked at the server. I clicked through a number of screens, and came to rest on the main settings screen.

I examined the settings. Then I experienced a mix of rage and disappointment.

You set the IP wrong. I said.

What? Bill looked at the screen.

The IP is just set wrong. Thats it. You left it on default.

Oh. Bill said slowly.

I clicked Execute, and of course, it worked perfectly.

An air of awkward silence hang between us. I missed my class. All because Bill didn't check the most basic, obvious setting. He called me back for nothing.

Gee... I made you miss your class. I'm sorry, Bill lamely offered.

Don't worry about it. I grabbed my stuff. I looked at my watch. 6:13pm. My train from Shinjuku leaves in a few minutes. I trudged out of the office in decidedly less higher spirits. Depressed, upset, angry and dejected, I slowly walked back to the station to head back home.

Very, very annoying. Even infuriating. But I'm a pretty forgiving person, so I forgave him. The next incident however, was twice as bad and impossible to forgive.

Ginza is a famous area of Tokyo, filled with very expensive designer clothes stores, expensive cars, more expensive women, and a business district.

I was working at a client site in a prestigious area of Tokyo called Ginza. Two companies were coming together, and the IT systems needed to be consolidated. Bill and I went in on the weekend to work on thefileserver . Bill got to work doing the important stuff, and I cruised around the office doing the grunt work. The air was heavy, and warm. There is always a unnatural stillness in offices on holidays.

Firefly! Bill shouted from the server room.

Coming, I said.

Alright, Bill said, rubbing his hands together. I moved all the information from the old hard drive, onto the new hard drive. Then I'm going to rebuild the server, and fix the permissions. Go around to all the PCs and make sure you can't find any files in My Documents or on the desktop.

Sure. I turned each computer on, one by one. The task was mind-numbing, which I actually didn't mind. My imagination tends to spark up during these repetitive tasks, and I spent the next hour or two in deep thought. I copy files I find to the server in ordered directories. I returned to Bill.

Done. I said.

Well we made progress faster than I thought. I'm going to set up RAID, leave this server building, and copy back all the data. Come back at 9am sharp on Monday to continue work.

I nodded agreement, said goodbye, packed up my bag, and left. I was mildly irritated that a big chunk was taken from my Saturday for 2 hours of overtime pay (about 5,000 yen). Oh well, it's not all about the money. My presence seemed to help Bill, even if he just wanted someone to talk with. I shrugged it off, and enjoyed the rest of my weekend.

I arrived on site at 8:50am equipped with my coffee, Monday morning fuzz, and my shoulderbag which housed my laptop that I purchased myself. I moved through the columns of desks, and found an empty space, and set up my computer and hung my jacket over the chair. I strained my neck over to the left and right, and was rewarded by satisfying cracking noises. I logged into the server, and had a brief look. Seems fine.

A user came over. Excuse me, you are computer person? she asked.

I sure am, how can I help you? I said, summoning my best Monday morning smile, and probably failing.

I have trouble find file. You can help? She asked, gesturing towards her desk.

Sure, I said, pushing the wheeled chair away from the desk and bouncing to my feet. Let me have a look.

I sat down at her PC, and brought up the pre-configured mapped drives.

All the files seem alright to me, I said, while flicking through the directories. Whats the problem?

No - only half of files are there. Other half are gone. She said, a crack developing in her voice.

Must be simple user error, I thought. It's pretty unlikely that only SOME directories are missing, that just doesn't make sense.

Ok, sure - I'll look into it for you. Can you tell me which folder is missing? I said.

Accounting folder missing. Also, Finance. Also, Sales. She said.

Um, accounting, finance and sales are missing? I said with surprise. She nodded my head. No problem. I'll look into it.

I stood up and walked over to my PC. Another foreign man came over to me.

Excuse me, I seem to be missing the files in Sales - I need them for a presentation in an hour. Can you help? He asked politely.

I visibly gulped. Sure, no problem. I'll just look into that right now. Give me a moment. I said, breaking a light sweat. He nodded, smiled, and walked away.

An email popped into my inbox, subject IMPORTANT FILES MISSING : URGENT from the office manager. My muscles involuntarily tensed. The office manager was very rude and abusive - I'm sure she is going to blast me as soon as she sees me.

Another girl walks up to my desk.

Excuse me. I am very sorry to interrupt, when you're busy, she intoned in quiet polite Japanese. I seem to have lost some files. When you have time, can you please help?

I'm working on it right now actually. I said, suddenly feeling my shirt collar tighten around my neck.

You don't know where they are? She asked.

I'm uh... .just.. starting to work on it now. I said, fighting a sudden urge to panic.

She sensed the uncertainty in my voice.

They are gone? The files? Her throat constricted, and her voice came out as a croak.

I'm.. just looking into it now. I'll tell you soon. I said, a little impatiently.

She stood there, unmoving.

I looked at her blankly, waiting for her to leave so I could begin work.

She started blinking fast. Her small mouth turned downwards at the corners. She choked back a sob, as a tear slid down her face.

Oh geez, look, i'm looking into it now. Please give me a moment, and I'll tell you whats happening as soon as I can, I said, as reassuringly as I could. I could feel my own neck on a slab of cold hard stone, and the office manager wearing a black mask and aggressively wielding an impossibly sized axe for someone of her small frame.

She spun around and took off at a quick jog, trying to hide her tears.

I gulped, and called Bill.

*ring ring*.....*ring ring*.....*ring ring*.....*ring ring*.....*ring ring*.....*ring ring*.....

My knuckles turned white as I fiercely gripped the phone handset. I looked up and saw 2 other people sitting in front of their computers with a confused expression on their face.

*ring ring*.....*ring ring*.....Hi you've reached Bill. I'm unavailable.. I cut off his voicemail message.

I could feel a quiet anger and desperation around the office, as more and more people began discovering their vital files were missing. My heart rate continued increasing, flushing my face red with worry and adrenaline.

There is a special feeling of horror when you're an IT person experiencing a major, major issue. Only IT people with similar experiences are able to understand. The feeling is intensified when it's your fault, but when you're the front line, it still gets pretty bad. It starts in your stomach, like someone just took a sickle and disemboweled you on the spot. Then it spreads up to your throat, and slams into your head. Your head becomes light and dazed and you suddenly realise the consequences of the your actions (or the problem). Fortunately, I am a very careful person, and in years of working in IT, I've only felt this 2 or 3 times. But when you feel it, you know it. And every time you feel it, you NEVER want to feel it again.

I pushed the horrific feeling away as best as possible. I glanced at the clock.

9:16am.

This is going to be a long day.

To be finished soon.

I logged into the server. I bounced around the hundreds of directories, while simultaneously doing 3 different searches. These files must be somewhere on this damn server. It doesn't make sense that only some of the files are missing. I absentmindedly shook my head, as search after search came up blank. No directories called Sales, or Finance, or Accounting - not a trace. The server was a dead-end.

I suddenly felt an ice cold shiver shoot up my spine. I turn around to see the Office Manager looking at me from across the office. I smiled weakly, and tilted my head, showing that I was aware of the problem, and working on it. She stood frozen to the spot, filling me with dread with her cold, accusing eyes. I mechanically swivelled my chair back to the desk. I fumbled for the phone, and dialed Bills mobile.

*ring ring*.....*ring ring*.....

It rang out.

I called Shane.

*ring ring*.....*ring ring*.....

Same.

I called the office.

Hey listen, I'm having a bit of an emergency right now - where are Bill and Shane? I asked quickly.

Oh they're in a meeting this morning I think. They won't be out until 11:30am.

Until 11:30am?! But it's 9:20am!! I need to speak with Bill right now, I need to know what he did on the weekend to the server.

Sorry, I can't help.

I threw my arms up in frustration and hung up the call. I sat there for 10 seconds, and called Bill and Shane again. They both rang out.

I quietly rose to my feet. I grabbed my jacket, and mentally mapped the fastest path to the door. I scooped up my mobile phone, and began powerwalking to the door. Office workers noticed my dash, and called out to me for help.

chotto.... itte kimasu (I'll be back in a second), I breathed as I walked past them.

Breathing heavily, I finally reached the elevator, and pressed down 10 times in succession. The elevator sang out it's relaxed *diiiiing*. I stood, tapping my feet, staring at my phone. No calls. The elevator doors opened, and I walked in quickly and pressed closed doors, before another worker saw me and began asking me the same questions again. The elevator hit the ground floor and the doors slid open, and I burst out of the elevator**, rushing outside.

I began calling Bill again, but as my finger went to press Dial, the phone sprang to life and began vibrating. Bills name popped up on the screen. I quickly answered the call.

BILL! I'm having some trouble here, I've been trying to reach you all morning. Some really important folders are missing on the server, and everyone is coming down on me. I've searched through the whole server, but I can't find them. Do you know where they are?

Hold on, slow down a second, bloody hell. I just have a 5 minute break from the meeting - you called me 10 times! My phone was going apeshit in my pocket. Don't do that again. 10 bloody missed calls!

What? Uh, look I'm in a real rush right now, I really need your help. Everyone is coming to me, and I don't have the answers.

Halfway through my sentence, I heard a muffling sound, like someone was putting their hand over the phone.

Listen can you talk to him? He's going crazy right now, I don't want to deal with that shit. I heard Bill's muffled voice say impatiently.

Uhhhhhh, hello? Shanes monotone voice.

What the hell, I'm not going crazy, I'm completely rational. I have every user in this company chasing me, and I don't have any answers for them. I need to speak to Bill, dammit. Put Bill on.

Uhhhhh, hang on. Shane said. The muffled hand noise again.

He's having a problem at the client site. Something about missing files. Shanes voice said quietly through the tiny speaker on my mobile.

I imagined Bill throwing his arms up in the air in semi-mock frustration and annoyance.

FINE. I heard Bill breathe. Tell him I'll go after lunch.

AFTER LUNCH! I almost shouted. I need some answers in the next 5 minutes. It's 9:40, I can't wait another 3 hours!

Bill said he'll go after lunch. Shane said.

But wait, I really need.. I began.

Cut him off, the client is coming back in a minute. I heard Bill hiss.

Just tell me what Bill did on the server so I can start to troubleshoot! I pleaded. The next thing I heard was a *pop*, as Shane cut the call.

I stood on the streets of Ginza, surrounded by expensive clothing shops, and quaked with furious indignation. I formed a fist so hard my fingerhands cut deep into my palms. I spun on my heels and walked back into the client site.

The next 3 hours, I sat at the desk, lamely trying to troubleshoot without the information I needed. People got more and more frustrated with my lack of ability to provide answers about their problem. The Office Manager shouted at me for 5 minutes straight. I took a long lunch to try to avoid dealing with people. Finally, nearly 4 hours later Bill turned up, visibly irritated.

Alright then, wheres the friggin problem, he pushed past me, not even bothering to say hello. He sat down at the desk and began looking through the server.

I don't know where the problem is, because I don't know what you did on Sunday. What did you do on Sunday? I asked, angrily.

I did what I said. I updated the permissions, rebuilt the server, and copied the files back. Bill mumbled flatly, putting almost no thought into his conversation with me.

Something suddenly struck me.

You updated the permissions? I said slowly.

Bill mumbled an affirmative, not bothering to open his mouth.

With the old domain account? I continued.

Hmmph

Did you update permissions on all of the files? I asked, slowly and deliberately.

No, just the ones protected by security groups. Bill said distractedly.

...... Like Sales, Finance, and Accounting...? I said.

There was a sudden silence. Bill froze. The mouse dropped from his hand, as he looked up at me. Our eyes met, and I saw his mouth drop open as he figured out what happened about 10 seconds after I did. I could see the Horrible IT Mistake Feeling gripping his body, as he turned pale white, and his throat constricted.

I tried to copy files onto the new server, but I didn't have the permissions... they didn't copy... then I formatted the server... I formated the Sales, Finance and Accounting folders...................... HOLY FUCK, Bill gasped.

I oddly felt a bit better, since I had someone to share the Horrible IT Mistake Feeling with. I didn't spare any sympathy for Bill however.

I might be able to undelete it. It might be recoverable. Bill said.

Alright... why don't I run to the shop and buy some special undelete software, I know a good package. I offered.

Bill looked around the office, and saw about 15 people looking in the direction of the server room, waiting to pounce on him, demanding answers for their lost files and lost productivity.

Uhhh, you know what? I'll go and get the software package. Bill said.

Are you sure? I don't mind going for a run. I said, knowing he would turn me down.

No, I'll go. I'll be back soon. Bill said over his shoulder as he grabbed his jacket and split the angry office worker crowd down the middle and headed to the escalator.

He rushed back in the door 40 min

utes late. I realise he must have taken a taxi both ways to get back from the local Big Camera so quickly.

He sat down at the computer and began installing the software.

Go tell the users we're looking into it now. Bill ordered.

I raised my eyebrow.

I've been telling them that for 5 bloody hours. I said.

Bill paused and looked up at me, as if considering to blast me and tell me to go and do it anyway. After a couple of seconds, a dialogue box popped up on the screen, and his attention again returned to the software installation.

Bill installed the software, and managed to recover about 70% of the deleted files. He updated the permissions, and tested them(this time), and copied them into the appropriate folders.

Alright... go and tell them there was a server crash, but we're lucky because we were able to recover 70% of the files. Bill told me.

What? You want me to lie?

Just tell them that.

I don't feel comfortable lying.

I don't care, thats the story.

No. I'll tell them the files are unrecoverable. I said firmly.

Bill shook his head, grabbed his bag, and left the building, leaving me alone again with a bunch of angry office workers.

I deeply sighed, and began the long, painful and ardous task of information each user that 30% of their vital documents were missing and completely unrecoverable.

It was one of the longest days of my IT career.

The next thing that Bill did to me made me decide to quit, despite the fact I had only a few months left on my VISA, and had no prospects or places to go. Updates soon.

**I thought it appropriate to put this note down here, otherwise it interferes with the pace of the story. On an interesting side note, elevators in Japan don't have a Ground floor. The floor at ground level is 1, the next level up is 2. In Australia (and I presume, English as well), the ground floor is labeled G, and the next floor up is 1.

I was working at a customer site doing a server build. It was a routine job, and I'd done it a number of times before. While the progress bar crawled across the screen, I looked around for people to chat with. Everyone seemed pretty busy. I sighed, and returned to watching the progress bar. It was just about due for a CD change, when the client manager walked past.

Tanaka : Oh, hey Firefly. Hows it going?
Firefly : Pretty good thanks! How are you?
Tanaka : Fine, fine. So, I need costings for next month. What are we looking at?
Firefly : Uh, costings?
Tanaka : Right. I'm doing the budget.
Firefly : Sorry, but I don't know what you mean.
Tanaka : The move. Are we looking at above 5 million yen? Below? Have you put together a proposal yet?
Firefly : Sorry, the move?
Tanaka : Right. Look I don't have much time, whats a ballpark figure?
Firefly : I really don't know, I didn't know there was a move. What kind of move?
Tanaka : The OFFICE move, course!! We're moving soon. You didn't know about that?
Firefly : Oh, um, actually, I hadn't been informed yet.
Tanaka : Well you better get informed, I think you're the main tech on the project.
Firefly : I'm the main tech?!
Tanaka : Come on, get with the program. You've got a lot of work to do.

Tanaka briskly walked off, irritated I was unable to supply him with the answer he needed. I sat there feeling stupid for a moment, before I realised that I wasn't supplied the information that I needed! Plus I looked like an idiot when I wasn't aware of the biggest project involved with that client. My irritation grew into anger. I sat there, finishing the server build. Another worker walked past.

Matt : Hey what do you think of the new office?
Firefly : Oh, I haven't actually been there just yet.
Matt : You haven't seen it? Bill and Shane were there just last week. I saw them when I did my inspection.
Firefly : Oh yeah? Great. Nice place?
Matt : Yeah it's great. You should go and check it out.
Firefly : So, er, where is it?
Matt : Behind Akasaka, next the TBS building.
Firefly : Ok. Thanks.

I grimaced and returned to my server build. 30 minutes later, I finished. I walked around talking to users and fixing some various problems. I looked up, and noticed Bill and Shane walk in. They both walked into the conference room and sat down.
Odd, I thought. I didn't know they were coming today.

I finished talking with the user, then I walked over into the conference room. Shane and Bill were engaged in conversation. They briefly paused when I walked in, and then resumed talking to each other. I stood there for a moment, waiting for them to finish. After a couple of minutes, it became clear that they weren't going to stop talking on my accord. I cleared my throat. They looked at me impatiently.

Bill : Do you need something?
Firefly : Actually, yeah. I wasn't aware you guys were coming in today.
Bill : ....and?
Firefly : And I wasn't aware that there was an office move either.
Bill : Is this going somewhere?
Firefly : Yes, it's going somewhere.
Bill : Hurry up then. Our meeting starts soon.
Firefly : Thats exactly the problem! You guys are keeping me in the dark. I don't have enough information to do a good job for these guys, and I don't feel good charging for the work I'm doing. I had no idea this company was moving. And the client told me I'm in charge!!

Shane is silent. He looks to Bill. Bill eyes me with relaxed indifference.

Bill : Right. I see what you're saying.
Firefly : You do? Thats great. So what I'm saying, is that I really want to be part of meetings. You're having a meeting with the client now, right? I really want to take part, even if I'm just listening. That way, I can be a better resource to the client, I can learn more, and I can appear informed and in control.

Bill takes a deep breath, and slowly exhales. I look at him, waiting for a response. Suddenly, the client Manager Tanaka walks through the door.

Tanaka : Sorry to keep you waiting gentlemen.
Bill : No problem, we just finished our conversation anyway. So, thanks very much Firefly. I appreciate your work, it's very helpful. I'll see you later then.

I stand and stare at Bill. My lip curls up in disgust.

Bill : Thats all for now. Thanks Firefly.

Bill grins and winks at Shane, like he has won some kind of battle. I stand there smouldering, and finally turn on the spot and walk outside.

I stormed back to the server, sat down, and continued working. How humiliating. I sat there until the meeting finished. Bill and Shane left the office, and didn't even say goodbye. It was just like Dilbert, but painful and real. I realised I wasn't respected or treated as a person, just a resource generating money. The thought left me lessened, like my ability and even existence was not respected, and therefore inconsequential and useless. I swallowed hard, grit my teeth, and inserted the next CD.

A couple of days later, I was sitting at my desk, trying to avoid doing work.

Bill : Firefly. Come here.

My ebbing motivation for work had already been sucked dry. I slowly stood up, and grudgingly walked over to Bill's desk.

Firefly : Yes.
Bill : I need you to work on the weekend.
Firefly : This weekend? I have plans.
Bill : It's really important. You're the only guy available, and I really need your help. Can you do it?

I sighed.

Firefly : How much work?
Bill : About 5 hours on Saturday, and 5 hours on Sunday.
Firefly : Thats the whole weekend.
Bill : Come on, Firefly, I'm counting on you for this. I really need your help. We're moving some racks, and you're the only guy around who can do the job.

I regarded Bill. He looked at me with pleading eyes.

Firefly : Ugh, fine, alright. I'll do it.
Bill : Good man! Thanks a lot.
Firefly : Ok.

I walked back to my desk and emailed my friends to cancel our plans. Oh well, I reasoned. At least I get some overtime pay, and a bit of exercise. I scoffed. My own justifications felt lame and weak. I wanted to relax on my weekends, and remove myself completely from my weekday cubicle hell.

The weekend crawled around slowly, since time moves slowly when you hate your job. I woke up at 8:30am, 3 hours earlier than my regular Saturday wake-up time. I fell out of bed and pulled some old clothes on. I walked to the station mindlessly, and took the train to the job.

When I arrived, Bill was already walking around, preparing everything. He had rented a truck, and it was parked downstairs.

Bill : Alright. The equipments over there. Grab the UPS first - careful, it weighs about 60 kilos. Use a trolley.

I stopped for a moment to consider what he said. It almost seems like he's looking after me. I felt oddly happy for a moment. Then I realised that if I snapped my back in half, he would need to do all the work. My happiness dissolved, and I returned to my previous dis-satisfied mood. I fetched the trolley and started loading.

We spent the entire weekend loading the racks onto the truck. They were heavy, and unwieldy. It took many trips ferrying equipment

back and forth, and we were lifting heavy objects all day in the thick of the sticky, ultra-hot Tokyo summer. I almost broke my spine when Bill dropped one end of the Rack too. Finally, after sweating through 2 painful and sweaty days, the weekend was over. Bill dropped me off home. It was on his way. I relaxed for a few hours, before going to bed and waking up at 7:30am the next day, my body wracked with muscle pain from all the heavy lifting. I slowly and deliberately went through the motions of getting ready for work.

I ended up missing my train, and I arrived at 9:05am. Shane saw me walk in, sit down, and slump at my desk. I flicked on my computer and sat there waiting for it to boot. I considered standing up to make myself a coffee, and decided against it after I stretched out my legs, and felt another stab of muscle pain.

Shane slowly pushed out of his chair, his chair wheels squeaking on the carpet. He stood up. He walked over, and stood over my desk. I craned my neck up to look at his awkward features.

Do you know what the time is? Shane asked with a hint of disapproval.

My computer had logged in by now. I looked at the PC clock.

9:07am? I asked.

Thats correct. Shane confirmed.

There was an awkward pause. I looked at Shane expectantly.

Do you know what time you're supposed to come into work? Shane pushed.

Uhh, is that 9am? I asked increduously.

Yes. So, er, Shane hesitated. So make sure you come in from 9am.

I nodded my head, grimacing. A pain ran up my leg, and I shifted my position on my chair.

Alright. So we understand each other. Shane said.

I stared at him, and he turned around, and walked off. I let out a long, deep sigh. Somethings gotta fucking give. I've had enough.

Fortunately, something gave. Next pay day.

I was looking forward to opening my pay slip.

I was especially looking forward to claiming some money back for my weekend of hell. The pain in my legs had long since worn off, but the irritation and anger at being sucked into the weekend and Shane's awkward rebuke still simmered beneath my peaceful exterior.

Wednesday rolled around, and I came back to the office in the late afternoon to find an envelope with my name on it. Hooray.

I sat down, and opened the envelope.

Base Salary : 350,000 yen
Tax : 12,330 yen
Regular Work : 160 Hours
Overtime : 0 hours
Extended Overtime : 0 hours

Total Pay : 337,670 yen.

I examined the pay check again. 337,670 yen? 0 hours overtime? I blinked.

I looked up at Shane and Bill. Their desks were at the far end of the office against the windows. They faced the worker desks, so we could see their faces and not their screens. They were working as normal, their faces impassive. I blinked again.

There must have been some kind of mistake. Right. A simple accounting error. Actually, maybe I screwed up my timesheets, and put in my time on a weekday instead of the weekend. Then the overtime wouldn't have been calculated. I slowly began nodding my head. Probably just my mistake. I better go check with Shane.

I stood up, and walked over to Shanes desk.

"Sorry to disturb you, Shane," I said, clutching my sickly paycheck. "I noticed that all the weekend overtime I did wasn't actually written on my payslip here. See how it says 0 hours overtime? I did about 10 hours that weekend. Did I make a mistake or screw up my timesheets or something?"

Shane seemed to freeze for a moment. He looked at me, looked at my paycheck, and then stole a glace at Bill.

"Right.... The overtime," Shane said slowly.

I looked at him in anticipation. He coughed lightly and uncomfortable, the phlegm from his cigarette habit rattling in his lungs. He looks guilty, I realised.

"You should talk to Bill about that, I think." Shane said, finally.

Bill, upon hearing his name, looked over at me and Shane. He looked down and saw my payslip. Almost imperceptibly, he scowled. My eyebrows furrowed. What is going on here?

I walked over to Bill's desk. "Hi Bill, sorry to disturb you, Shane said I should talk to you about my pay slip?" I said as politely as I possibly could.

"What overtime?" Bill asked.

"All the overtime I did for the rack move 2 weeks ago. Remember?" I prompted Bill.

"That's not overtime." Bill said.

"Um, yes... the weekend overtime. It was a Saturday, and Sunday, and I worked. That's overtime." I said.

"No, we couldn't charge the client for your work. So you don't get paid for it. This is all in your contract, why don't you go and look it up. Anyway, I'm busy now." Bill said impatiently.

"Um, I don't quite understand. Bill can I speak to you outside for a moment?" I asked.

"I'm busy now." Bill said without hesitation.

"I won't take 5 minutes. I'd really like to sort this out" I said.

Bill grunted, and pushed his chair away from his desk angrily. He stood up and quickly walked outside. I followed him.

"Let me try to explain whats going on right now. I worked really hard that weekend. I cancelled my plans, and I worked for you. Because you said you needed my help. I did my best to help you out, and now you're telling me that I'm not even going to get paid for it?" I said.

"This is all in your contract. Because we can't charge the client, you don't get paid." Bill said. He looked past me to the door, but I had him cornered, since I stood in the doorway.

"But you're going to sell those racks to customers for 200,000 yen each. All I'm asking for is my legitimately worked overtime. It's like, 25,000 yen?" I enunciated.

"I'm not going to stand here and discuss this with you. I've already told you. You're not getting paid." Bill said with an air of finality.

"That's ridiculous. You're not even going to pay me regular rates? I can't stand for that, it's crazy!" I shouted.

"I've had enough. Move out of my way." Bill said, pushing past me. I tried to stand in the door, but Bill shoved past me and returned to his desk. I stood there, fuming.

Shane came outside, and lit up a cigarette and looked at me. I looked back at him. He coughed nervously.

"Too bad about that, huh." He said, his eyes averted. Godammit, what a fucking puppet. He knows it's wrong, but he won't stand up to Bill.

"Yeah, that's just too bad." I said angrily, and walked back inside. I imagined myself shouting as loudly as I could in frustration to relieve some tension. It didn't work.

I walked back over to my desk, switched off my PC, gathered my things and walked over to the door. My work-mates looked up at me, sensing something was wrong. I shot Bill a dirty glance, but he wasn't even looking at me. I spun around and left the office.

I felt dizzy walking back to the train station. How is that possible? Is it even legal for him to not pay me for time I worked? That's bullshit. I got home, and pulled out my contract. I looked at the compensation clause.

"Employee will not be paid in respect of work completed where Employer is unable to directly charge a customer."

Oh. It is there. That's a bit rude.

I then went through all of my previous pay packets, and compared them to the actual hours of work I performed. I found multiple discrepancies – none in my favour of course. I realised this had been happening for about 10 months, and I had just trusted them to do the right thing by me, and pay me what I earned. I'll never make that mistake again.

I've later found out this was an illegal contract. You can't make an employee work, and then make them agree to not be paid. It's like contracting someone to murder you – you still get charged for murder, and you would still get charged by the Labour Bureau for illegally treating workers.

Anyway, I went back to my shoebox apartment, and fell asleep. I woke up the next morning feeling cheated. I got ready for work, and left at 8:25. I picked up a coffee and my favourite egg, lettuce and tomato sandwich from Caf½æP de Crie, and headed into work. I stuffed the sandwich down my throat before I arrived to work, because Bill told me once that I shouldn't waste time eating breakfast at work, and I wasn't in the mood to argue.

I walked in at 9am, and sat down at my desk. Bill and Shane weren't there yet. I loaded up the Sydney Morning Herald website to check the local Sydney news. My mind wandered to the internet access logs, and I braced myself for a potential future complaint about visiting non-work related websites at work. I shrugged off those thoughts, and after spending a few minutes keeping up to date with the happenings in Australia, which allow me to better talk and relate to my Australian clients anyway, I began to prepare for my client trip to Kamiyacho.

Bill and Shane arrived at the same time – 9:40am. They walked past me, and didn't say good morning. I didn't feel particularly obliged to say good morning either. I returned to my work.

I glanced at the date on the PC clock. 13th of October, 2001. I mused on my time in Japan so far. I had arrived in August of 2000. My working holiday visa was going to expire after a year and a half. That means my visa will last until February 2002. Only 5 months left!

I paused for a moment to consider what would happen when my visa expired. I would have to l

eave Japan. What would happen? Would there be a way to stay in Japan? Would it even be possible? Doubtful, I thought, solemnly. Since I had no University degree, and I didn't have 10 years of commercial experience in my field, getting a working visa was pretty much impossible.

Bill and Shane – how much longer could I stand working for them? I would have to leave Japan in 5 months. No company would hire me for that period of time – not for the salary I was on anyway. Looks like you have to harden the fuck up, and see it through, I told myself. If you want to stay in this country, anyway. I nodded silently to my unspoken decision.

The calendar in my Outlook dinged. I had to leave to visit my client. I turned off my computer. I packed up my laptop (which I had purchased myself, since Bill and Shane wouldn't buy me one), and put all of my engineer tools into my bag. I stood up, and walked to the door. Just as I was about to walk through the door, Bill called out.

"Wait up a minute – you're going to Kamiyacho right?" Bill asked.

"Yeah." I responded.

"I'll give you a lift there. Hang on a minute..." Bill said.

"I'm fine. I'll just take the train. See you later." I tried to leave.

"No, I'm going there anyway. Just wait there, will you?" Bill said, collecting some of his things from his desk.

I reluctantly stood there for a couple of minutes as he got ready to leave. I looked at my watch. He stood up.

"Lets go."

I followed him outside to the car. He opened it, and I sat down. Kamiyacho was only a 15 minute drive, but I would have preferred to take the train. Being around Bill made me fell ill. He pulled out of the small parking lot, and we were on the road.

"So... You've been here for over a year now." Bill said, while we were stopped at some lights. My ears perked up. Something was going on. Was I going to get a raise?

"That sounds about right," I said, noncommittally.

"Right. Well, I wanted to tell you, " Bill cleared his throat. "You're doing a fine job. All of the clients speak very highly of you, and things are going really well."

What the hell was that. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Somethings going on. Working in this company, you quickly learn to sense when something really messed up is going to happen, and my spidey sense was ringing off the hook.

"Also, with the current economic climate, we're not able to continue with the previous rate of payment." Bill swallowed. "So, from this month, your pay will be cut by 50,000 yen."

"..W-w-what?" I stuttered, in shock.

"But I don't want you to take this the wrong way." Bill said, quickly. "It's just how things are. It's not because you've been doing a bad job, or anything. The work you're doing is really good actually. But we have to give you a 50,000 yen pay decrease."

"But, that's a big percentage of my salary! We're in the middle of a contract! You can't just drop my salary like that!" I said, tears of futility welled up in my eyes.

"Well, I already have. You're on 300,000 yen now. It's not negotiable." Bill said, as he pulled over the car. "Heres your stop."

I sat in the car unwilling to get out. "Look, Bill – you can't just do this. I was banking on that salary to be there. I've got bills to pay – I was planning on going home to Australia for Christmas! Come on, mate." I pleaded, pathetically.

"Hop out. I've got a meeting to go to. Hurry up." Bill prodded me.

I sat there, speechless. I tried to will into existence the perfect sentence or phrase that would make Bill see some reason and not suddenly cut my salary. I came up blank, and I ended up sitting there in silence. I brusquely wiped away an angry tear that threatened to slide down my cheek and betray my helplessness.

"Find another job, if it bothers you that much." Bill said. "Now come on, hop out, I'll be running late."

I opened the car door, and stepped out. I pulled out my bag. I was silent. I had nothing to say. I closed the door, and the car drove off immediately. Zombie-like, I stumbled into the client site, scenarios and analysis pumping through my head.

"Find another job, if it bothers you that much." Bills voice repeated in my head. "Find another job," his sneering tone cut through my mindless state. I suddenly realized what was happening. My visa was expiring in February. I had only 5 months left. I could only work for another 5 months, before I have to leave Japan for good. Bill knew that. Bill also knew that no other company would hire me for only 5 months. Bill thinks he has me over a barrel, I realised. He thinks he can treat me like SHIT, and drop my salary, because I'll suck it up, and take it, since I have nowhere else to go.

Well, fuck that. And fuck Bill. I'm not the kind of person to be taken advantage of. In fact, what a dirty bastard. My previous helpless state was instantly gone. In its place, stood a pissed off, defiant Firefly ready to take some major action. I could clearly see what was going on - Bill is trying to screw me. Again. And I won't let that happen.

I did the work I had to do at the clients, and left work on time at 6pm. I went home, and pulled out my laptop. I started typing.

"Dear Bill, Shane.

Firstly, thank you very much for all of my experiences at your company. I very much enjoyed my time here, and I learned many things. However it is with regret that I inform you I will be terminating my employment contract, effective immediately. In compliance with the contract, I will provide 30 days of further work. My last day will be the 14th of November, 2001."

I stopped typing, and re-read what I had typed so far. An unexpected wave of euphoria and ecstasy coursed through my body. I had no idea how freeing and exciting it was to quit a shit job. Inspired, I continued writing the rest of the resignation letter. It was very polite, and written in very polite English, that masked my underlying contempt for Bill and Shane. It was my masterpiece – a polite resignation letter that read well, but managed to pound the reader with a reverberating underhanded "FUCK YOUUUUU". I smiled and admired my work. I couldn't wait to give it to them.

Next morning came slowly. I arrived to the office at 9am. Bill and Shane weren't there. I took particular delight in printing out my resignation letter on the company printers. I signed 2 copies of the document, and returned to my desk. I sat there bubbling in delight and in anticipation of handing the resignation letters to Bill and Shane.

I told my colleagues what happened, and my planned response and subsequent resignation. They all responded with shock and disgust at my sudden drop in pay, and supported my resignation. None of them had the same speech, nor had their salaries docked money. He thought he had me, the bastard. Wait until I give him this. I glided my hand over the freshly laser printed paper. I waited for them to arrive.

While waiting, I realised the hot secretary was looking at me, and twirling a lock of her long black hair around her finger. Of course, I would never date a colleague because of the potential for problems. However, as soon as I handed those two sheets of paper over to Shane and Bill, we would no longer be colleagues. My mind went off on a tangent to resigning, and I looked back at her and smiled.

Our moment was ruined by Bill pushed through the way, and walking to his desk. He sat down, and started work. Shane followed suit. I inhaled deeply, and stood. I picked up the two identical, signed sheets of paper. I walked over to Bill. I looked him in the eye, and smiled. I placed the sheet in front

of him. I walked over to Shane and placed my letter in front of him as well. I walked back to my desk, filled with glee.

I looked at Bill. He was reading through the letter. His face was impassive, completely unreadable. A hint of disappointment bubbled it's way to the surface, and almost definitely played across my face. I was hoping for a much stronger reaction. He finally finished reading, nodded almost imperceptibly, and returned to his work. I felt cheated, but I also felt like I won the lottery. I sat back in my chair, as the 1 month countdown began.

Again, I began idly thinking about what would happen after 1 month. And what would happen after my visa ran out? Truth be told, I desperately wanted to stay in Japan. My entire life is in this country. All of my friends, my martial arts, my sports – my entire life. I had built an existence for myself in this strange foreign land, and I was loving it. I wasn't ready to leave. I decided I would stay.

Japanese Immigration probably has some different ideas about that, I thought sullenly. I don't fit into any of the work visa categories. I started to feel a bit down, but I quickly decided that I shouldn't be focusing on a few months down the track. Or even how I would survive after I leave the company. Now was the time to celebrate leaving this goddamned shit job. I beamed a large smile. The secretary noticed, and beamed it back. I kicked back in my chair. Life is good.

"Firefly. Where are those updated Excel spreadsheets." Bill shouted out, his dull voice imploding my giddy happiness. Oh fuck, one month to go, I thought. I swore quietly and loaded up Excel.

I was having lunch with the hot secretary. I guess it’s rude to call her that for a long time (although maybe she doesn’t think so). Her name is Moeka. Moeka was a goddess. Every time I was feeling down or upset, or shitty about “the management”, she would know exactly the right thing to say to make me feel brand new, and ready to battle unlimited tirades of bullshit from Bill and Shane.

She actually had a whole bunch of ridiculous experiences with Bill and Shane that really have to be heard to be believed. I’ve been talking with her about writing these experiences down, and she’s excited about the idea. Look out for these over the coming months.

Anyway, I was telling her in detail about what happened with my 50,000 yen pay cut, and about how I was ripped off for overtime. She sat and listened to the entire story patiently and sympathetically, nodding her head and making appropriate pained expressions.

“I’m really sorry to hear that you’re leaving. We’ve been working together for so long now…” She commented softly, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

I looked back at her, and bit my lip in regret. “I feel the same way. It’s really fun to work with you, and really easy to talk with you,” I said, looking into her eyes.

Her phone rang, and she answered it. She perked up, and said “Hello!” in English, with a big smile, and excused herself from the table. I idly wondered who was on the other end of the line. Boyfriend? It can’t be her husband. I vaguely remember her telling me she was separated. Hmmm, I mused, while watching her talk on the phone from a distance. She was smiling and obviously happy. Shame, I thought. “Whats a shame? Grow a sac and get freaky.” commanded devil Firefly.

Devil Firefly vanished in a puff of smoke as she returned to the table, and we resumed our conversation.

“So on your last paycheck, after working so hard for a year, and after doing all that unpaid overtime, you’re still going to be docked 50,000 yen?” She asked.

I frowned. “Well, I haven’t really thought about it, but I suppose that’s right. That is pretty shitty isn’t it.” I said, suddenly irritated again.

She became thoughtful, as though she was cooking up an idea. “You know… SysTech still doesn’t have a whole bunch of insurance for it’s employees.” She said in hushed tones.

“Oh yeah?” I said, not really interested. I was thinking about what I could have bought with my 50,000 yen.

“No no… they still don’t have insurance that the government requires them to have. They’re operating illegally, right now.” She continued.

My interested spiked. “Illegally…?” I repeated.

“Right. So, say for instance, if someone were to… anonymously call the Government, and mention this fact…. they’d be in pretty bad shape. Very bad, since they’ve been illegal for years.” She said.

“Alright,” I said, not really following her. “So how does this help me?”

“Given the choice, would you rather cause serious problems for the company, or would you rather have 50,000 yen?” She asked me seriously, staring into my eyes.

“That’s an odd choice. Of course, I don’t wish any harm on anyone. I wouldn’t want to cause other SysTech Employees to lose their jobs or something,” I said deliberately.

“So you choose the 50,000 yen?” She said, her eyes sparkling.

I laughed despite myself. “Sure,” I said with a big smile on my face. “I’d choose the 50,000 yen.”

“Alright.” Moeka leaned forward, locked eyes with me, and sipped her drink. “I’ll get it for you.”

I laughed. “Oh you’ll just get me 50,000 yen. And how will you do that?” I asked.

“That’s a secret. But it involves the insurance,” She said slyly.

“The insurance? The one that the government makes it mandatory to have?” I asked.

“Exactly. Of course, you can’t really mention the insurance stuff to Shane or Bill, without it looking like blackmail.” She said.

“Right…” I said neutrally.

“But I could.” She said with a wink.

“No, Moeka, come on you can’t do that. I don’t want anyone else to get involved. Especially not you.” I protested weakly.

She waved her hands dismissively. “Don’t worry about that.”

“What exactly are you going to do?” I asked suspiciously.

“Just. Don’t. Worry.” She grinned mischievously, as she slid her chair out and prepared to leave.

I couldn’t help but grin. Her mischievous conspiratorial manner was infectious. I stood up, and followed her to the cashier.

——-

A short while later, we gathered at an all you can eat Western food buffet restaurant for my farewell party. Even Shane turned up, and quickly went to the bar to order a beer. The frequent action of raising the bottle and taking a swig gave him something to do, and minutely eased the awkwardness he exuded from every pore of his skin. Bill didn't even come, saying he was busy. I guessed it would just be too uncomfortable for him to show up after illegally docking my pay 50,000 yen and then failing to pay my small amount of overtime. I didn't miss him.

We sat down at a table, and started going back and forth to the buffet, scooping up Western food. It was a rare chance to stock up on plentiful, tasty, well cooked Western food, and we all took advantage of it. I registered on some level that this was my farewell party, and everyone else would pay for me. This somehow made the food taste even better, and I wolfed it down.

We all chatted, and laughed, and talked. Shane continued to drink his beer, gulp after gulp. We mostly ignored him, until he tapped his glass with his finger and cleared his throat. We all fell silent and looked to him.

His awkward vibe intensified as everyone's attention focused on him. His face seemed to take a fuller shade of red as the blood rushed to his head.

"So err...." He began. We waited patiently.

"This is Firefly's farewall party. It's a shame he has to go, because he has done a lot of really great stuff for the team, but I'm sure he's moving onto bigger and better things!" Shane awkwardly quipped to a table full of silent people.

Shane coughed.

"Anyway Firefly, you've been a good guy. I wish we could have spent a bit more time with you and training you up, but that's how things turned out, eh." Shane attempted a friendly smile, but generated a half scowl instead.

I stared back at him, suppressing a shrug.

"As a token of my uhh, appreciation, here is something I want you to have." He opened his jacket pocket, took a swig of his beer, and retrieved a long, thin envelope.

I regarded it with disinterested. I looked over at Moeka. Her eyes had lit up, and she was following the path of the envelope as it arced over to my extended hand. Shane pushed it into my hand, and then tapped it twice with his finger.

"That's just something I wanted you to have. Hope you appreciate it." Shane's beer ran out, leaving him with no action or routine to hide his nervousness. He immediately stood up, and walked to the bar.

Once I confirmed his back was turned, I looked at Moeka. She was grinning like crazy. I angled the envelope up, and cracked open the top. The unmistakable woody aroma of 5 crisp 10,000 yen notes hit me. My eyes involuntarily opened wide in shock. I looked at Moeka who was bouncing up and down in her seat with her hands clasped together. Very cute.

"Moeka. How did you do this?" I asked.

"Secret dayo !" She responded half in English, half in Japanese.

"You didn't do anything weird, did you?" I asked with half a smile on my face.

She clenched her fists in mock anger and irritation. "Never!" She said indignantly, but with the hint of a mischievous smile played across her features.

I grinned, and dropped the matter. I'd ask her later how she managed this minor miracle.

Shane came back with his Corona, sat down and resumed regular swigging. We resumed regular conversation, and were talking and drinking well into the night. Finally bill time came around. Everyone else chipped in, so I didn't have to pay. Moeka went around to 7 people collecting money. Shane arced an eyebrow, but reached into his wallet and pulled out his share.

"Oh shit, I only have a credit card," one guy said, holding up his credit card in resignation.

"No problem!" Said Moeka suddenly. She makes a lunge for the card and grabs it. She sticks out her chest and slides the card between her breasts, like shes processing his credit card transaction. She looked up at everyone else and smiled. Everyone stared back in shock, but I started laughing. Goddess.

Everyone walked outside, feeling fat and happy – except for Shane, who felt 53,000 yen lighter. Everyone went their separate directions, but as it turned out, Moeka and I were going home on the same train line. We walked together to the station.

"I have no idea how you managed to do that. Shane is one of the stingiest people I know."

Moeka said nothing, but smiled coyly as we walked down the stairs into the station.

"What a great night." I said. "Thanks a lot for everything."

Moeka shook her head, as if to say ¡Æit was nothing'.

We got on the train together, and laughed, and chatted and reminisced. I had mixed feelings about leaving Systech. I couldn't stand Bill and Shane, but I couldn't stand not seeing Moeka. I felt a knot in my stomach as we hugged goodbye. The hug lasted a split second longer than it should have, and we made eye contact for a moment. The train door alarm started ringing, signifying that the doors were closing. We quickly broke apart. I waved goodbye, and the train left. I walked up the stairs surrounded by 100 people, but I felt alone.