ALEX: We waited fourteen days and fourteen nights, on tenterhooks for the knock at the door or

the ringing of the phone that would herald the return of my dear departed bag. But to no avail.
By the end of the eighth day, I decided it was time for decisive action. Once again, I dialled the
lost luggage hotline.
JADE: Hello sir thank you for waiting. Your bag has been at the local post office for the past ten
days.
ALEX: Oh! Thank heavens! Praise the lord! Will it be returned to me, perhaps enrobed in
wrapping paper and with a pretty bow on top?
JADE: Alas, sir. We are rather short on wrapping paper during the festive period, but if you call
the post office, they will be happy to arrange delivery.
ALEX: Call the… post office?
JADE: Yes sir.
ALEX: But… forgive my confusion… I was given to understand they already had my address?
JADE: That is correct, sir.
ALEX: So, please stop me if I've got this wrong, but what we have here is a post office that has
a package and a delivery address and they're not quite sure what to do with it?
JADE: Yes sir. It's Shinjuku Kita post office. Would you like the…
ALEX: What exactly do they think it is?! An early Christmas present, perhaps?! A decorative
ornament? No, I've got it - a gift from the Gods! Surely, package plus delivery address is one of
the very first lessons they teach you at Post Office school, right after they've shown you where
the toilets are! It is the very NATURE, the very PURPOSE of the pathetic post office to MAKE
that equation every day and then complete -
JADE: Would you like the number of the post office?
ALEX: Yes please.
JADE: It's 0584825. Would you like to confirm that?
ALEX: No thank you, but I know you're going to do it anyway.
JADE: Exactly. So, all together now… 0...5...8…

ALEX: Four days later, we had said our goodbyes and then confirmed our goodbyes and then
reconfirmed our hellos. Then reconfirmed our goodbyes. And I settled down to call the
telephone number scribbled repeatedly on the back of an envelope. Imagine my shock,
confusion, and horror when I was greeted with the message:
JADE: The number you have called has not been recognized. Please confirm, reconfirm, and
then reconfirm again, and then try again later.
ALEX: I was through confirming and reconfirming, and so I decided to strap my shoes to my feet
and investigate the legend of the Post Office myself. I knew that Kita Shinjuku was the
estranged Northern cousin of Shinjuku post office. I say estranged because it was not located
near any convenient train stations whatsoever. This, I knew, because Google Maps had
informed me.
Over the course of my journey, I spotted a number of ominous signs that all might not be what it
seemed. A collection of pigeons arranged themselves in formation, carefully spelling out the
words: "Visiting the post office would be a bad idea." A squirrel chittered nervously:
"Don't go! Don't go!"
I pressed on, for as you have gathered from the manner of my discourse, I am from the olden
days, and I certainly don't talk to -
JADE: The olden days? Didn't you just mention Google Maps?
ALEX: Ignoring the squirrel -
JADE: Plus you seem to spend a lot of this story on the telephone.
ALEX: Ignoring the squirrel -
JADE: And I don't
GUNSHOT SOUND FX
ALEX: Shooting the squirrel, I proceeded on my lonely way.

ALEX: The man gestured wildly, gabbling in a strange language.

JADE: Japanese.
ALEX: A mysterious lexicon nobody could understand.
JADE: Japanese!
ALEX: Probably a language dead for centuries
JADE: It was Japanese!
ALEX: An archaic form of communication unheard by modern ears!
JADE: Alex it was JAPANESE! You are in Japan. So is the post office. So is the man who works
in the post office! Ergo, he was speaking Japanese.
ALEX: …