Found In Translation 

Let’s say I was offered one wish.  And that the wish had to be temporal, gluttonous.  It had to be something I could otherwise not likely have that could not be preserved.  It could be considered wasteful.

If this offer ever surfaced I would know my response before the genie could even intone a question: I would go to my Japanese hair salon in Fuchutown Hiroshima for a haircut from Kazuo.

But to better justify my choice I’d like to set the scene of a small suburban town outside of the city center of Hiroshima, Japan.  The shop is located around the corner from the Hondori Gochomae bus stop and kitty corner to the Mon Cheri bakery.  When the 7-11 convenient shop across the street closed down, for two days to renovate, the hair salon purchased flowers from it’s neighboring flower shop, Kana, to present the 7-11 with an enormous bouquet in congratulations.  They are that kind of shop.

The most novel aspect of this less trafficked street in sleepytown Fuchutown is the inordinate number of Hair Salons all within 3 blocks of one another.  There was “Birth” directly adjacent to the school I taught at.  “Snob” was located under my apartment complex.  “White Hair Salon Boutique and Dental Clinic” was stationed near the grocery store I shopped at daily and “Strand” shared a parking garage with the Mon Cheri bakery keeping it in direct line of sight of our hair salon that sends renovation flowers and has one element that sets it apart from every other hair salon on the block.

If Hair has a dog.

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