Japan

The streets were bright tonight — so much so that it seemed like it was daytime. It might as well have been. I’m not sure what time it is. All I know is: It’s evening here in Japan and we’re going to grab something to eat.

It’s a shame when you think about it. The first sights and sounds you see the first time you step foot in a country are those of the airport.

“Would you the chicken or pasta?” the steward asks passengers. I begin to shake at the prospect of airline food. It’s one of the world’s true atrocities. Honestly, who else can make a strawberry taste bad?