It was a leisurely stroll from Akihabara to Jimbocho, really quiet
for a workday. The stretch between the two districts must be
mainly a hi-rise bedroom community. The streetfront shops
and workplaces seemed deserted, and there weren’t
many of these about. And precious few machines.
But there was a full-service filling station. I didn’t even
recognize it. First of all, the pumps are in the ceiling,
and more than I could imagine them ever needing
at one time. Far to the right, a small shed on tracks
is a very efficient automatic car wash. They’ll park
your car and run the washer over it. If there was repair
equipment. it seemed to be hiding behind cabinet doors.
I did not see a lift. And the several employees wait in
a corner office until someone arrives for service. Yet,
it looks totally deserted. It’s just one of those things
a tourist would never ask about at the car rental
place: how do I find the filling stations?
I found the twin of a car I see in Burbank from time
to time. Still, I have no idea who manufactures it.
At home, I assumed it was a treasured antique.
Finding one in Tokyo, in perfectly mint condition,
suggests it is still being sold. I understand there
are no used car lots in all of Japan. All old cars
are recycled.

I came with certain fantasies, of course.
I felt there was a chance I would really see
Tomosaka Rie on the streets in Shibuya. I mean, It’s possible.
It rains frogs in certain parts of the world. So, imagine how startled
I was, after hours of digging through bookstores, to round a corner
in Jimbocho, and find her. With great restraint, I did not try to buy
the IDO display unit. Since then, I have discovered that it would
cost $60 just to have one mailed to me.