The other waitresses and I are not impressed by your arigato or your mispronunciation of the fish that is already translated for you on the menu. Do not give me a little head bow as you leave, as though only you and I know the secret rules of leaving a sushi restaurant. I assure you, we have not shared a moment. I do not care about your stopover in Narita three years ago or how you love Buddhism. You are not the first geeky white man to try and woo a Japanese waitress with a blatant display of rice-crackerness. I will tell you now, it is not hot. If you ever call me an "exotic cherry blossom" again, I will stab you in the eye with a used chopstick. Do not come in 10 minutes before closing and think you're special because you are the last one here. You are the reason we turn off the music and dramatically mop the floors in silence. Eat your damn fish, tip decently, and be pleasant. Then get out of my face.

—Anonymous