February 12th, 2006

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Maid for a day

Years ago, in one of the University of Virginia E-council’s more spirited moments, there was an idea to have a fundraiser in the form of renting a council member as “maid for a day” where they would basically be at a renter’s employ to go about taking care of all the messy business those engrossed in thermodynamics rarely have the time (or inclination) for. I don’t recall exactly how it turned out, I didn’t participate.

Last week in my Mainichi (newspaper) reading, I came across a story about electronics store Yodobashi Camera collaborate with a contingent of maid cafes [cafes where the staff all dress in assorted cute maid-like outfits and refer to customers as "My lord"] in Akihabara to reduce plastic shopping bag waste. This seemed to suit me quite was as I a) ethically turn down the offer of polyethylene bags ninety-five times out of a hundred, b) am a big fan of Yodobashi, and c) am never one to turn down chance to go to Akiba to see something cute. So, I read the fine print and it seemed that essentially the first three thousand customers to Yodobashi’s hobby section the weekend of the 11th would receive canvas “My Maid” bags if they refused the standard plastic ones, at which point they could get them autographed by a plethora of maids from the participating cafes. There was even a “kickoff” event on Saturday. So, I enlisted a fellow moe aficionado from work, and we made plans to hit Yodobashi early Saturday to get a bag.

Unfortunately for me, I somehow quite at the spur of the moment decided to pick Friday as my first return to “casual drinking” after a long hiatus and Yusei and I got liquored up watching Swingers before going out to drink more, meet friends, and eventually end up (as always) playing catch in the small park next to my house at three in the morning. However, luck was with me and my comrade was late as well the next morning, so although I tore across town on my bike to get to the store by ten, I was left with a little casual browsing time before he arrived.

The bag was underwhelming, quite nondescript actually, being not cute or very conventional, and bearing nothing to indicate it had anything to do with being a “My Maid” bag. This probably explains why there was no line, and plenty of bags were left. The hobby section of Yodobashi is regrettably small, so I didn’t have much choice of what to make my token purchase of, but ended up mildly satisfied with a sentimental favorite, a scale replica model of the Keikyu electric train line’s 1000 series. I have not yet had the time to put it together.

Not to be dissuaded by the lack of aplomb with which the event was executed, my friend and I declined interviews from the numerous television stations on the scene and maid our way (Freud) to a cafe in hopes of getting some signatures on our newly acquired (depressingly unaromatic) shoulder bags. So over curry rice and Chinese tea we talked about language, the office, and days gone by; but in the end it was largely for naught as it turns out the cafe we visited was not one of those participating in the event.

Of course I wasn’t going to go home with just an eight dollar plastic train and a stinky blank canvas bag, so I relied on my not so self-effacing nature and approached a number of the maids along Chuo dori, who may commonly be found handing out flyers for various businesses on weekends. The results were mixed, some were dubious, some were busy, but several establishments’ representatives warmed to my mock innocent entreatment for their John Hancocks. Two even happily agreed to have their picture taken with me. I’m not sure if the thick glasses, cap, and 35mm camera helped or hurt.

After running out of maids and parting ways with my friend, I rode to work on the south side of town to help out a couple guys who were putting together a scene I was supporting. By the time I got home, it was two dozen maids, twenty miles, and a stubbly hangover. Not bad for a Saturday.

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