Around the train stations, I first encountered all the essential touchpoints of Japanese life.
Food. Punctuality. Courtesy. Cell phones. Prostitutes. Salarymen. Schoolgirls with short skirts and
loose socks. And the most essential of all, the jindoohanbaiki—the vending machine.
There’s coffee with caramel, with hazelnut, with cream, bitter or sweet, and espresso. Maybe three brands
of each on a single platform. Lemonade. Lemon juice. Maybe six kinds of tea, including wheat tea.
Chocolate milk. Yoghurt drinks. Hot or cold, day and night for around 120 yen.
In Tokyo, in late Fall, a hot can in your hands alone takes the chill away.
Sake and beer have become uncommon in the stations, but step outside and you’ll find
those machines right on the street. I read there are more than 6 million vending machines
in Japan, and half of them sell drinks. The rest sell cigarettes, gum, whole meals, clothes,
pornography, contraceptives, cameras, fresh flowers, and possibly, real pearls.