Since my desk at the BoE has been changed, I now sit next to Cheeky Supervisor. Cheeky Supervisor discovered my small candy stash several months ago, when one day my large desk drawer was open as he walked by. Location of candy duly noted, he reached down and helped himself to a Werther's Original (yes, they sell them here). I'd been just about to offer him one, so I said sarcastically, "Dozo" (please, help yourself). I'm not sure he got it. This happened at least one more time, when he helped himself to two Werther's.
Of course the candy horking increased significantly when my desk changed a month ago. He was right there when I was organizing the drawers, and helped himself then. Actually, I think he just looked at it, and read the front of the bag like he didn't know what was inside, so of course I offered him some. Last week he tried to tell me something—I think it was that he'd been horking my candy while I was away from my desk, and that he'd replace it. But between his English and my Japanese, I couldn't be sure.
Today, about ten minutes ago, I opened up the drawer to get something. Remembering the candy stashed at the back, and Cheeky Supervisor sitting next to me, I pulled the drawer all the way open. "Dozo," I said, gesturing to the bag.
But the bag was empty. Yep, he'd already eaten it all. This time he really promised to replace the candy. "Yes, the same kind, please." I'm not entirely sure why I bought it in the first place, as I rarely eat it myself; I think I bought that bag last year. So it's not the fact that my candy is gone that gets me, it's the fact that he snuck it out of my desk.
You can probably guess why I call him Cheeky Supervisor.
A few months ago, when I was checking out new apartments, CS and I drove out to Yakawa on a warm June day. Getting into my car, he promptly closed the windows, turned the air conditioner on high, and aimed all the fans on himself. The temperature was maybe 28C (82F), and Yakawa is five minutes away, so it seemed excessive.
Cheeky Supervisor helped me move apartments, which was very kind of him. He, with Stimulant Man (that's the best name I've got for him now; I'll talk about him sometime else) did most of the heavy lifting. They drove the big truck to Yokota, while I drove my car, and my (real) supervisor and another office lady drove separately. CS and SM got to the Yokota apartment a few minutes ahead of the other women and me, and had already started to unload the truck when we arrived. It wasn't until everything had been moved in and everyone else had left that I realized someone had used my toilet (No. 1), and the water had not yet been turned on. This was a Friday, and the water was not due to be turned on till Monday. As it was, it wasn't turned on until Tuesday or Wednesday, and after then it took three days of ventilation fan and incense cones to clear out the smell. I have no real proof of which guy it was who used the WC, but I know who my money's on.
For a few days this summer I wore a new pair of sandals someone had gifted me: wooden soles painted with butterflies, and thin straps with purple sequins. I probably wouldn't have bought them myself, but since they were a gift, I thought I'd give them a try. At five o'clock one one of these days at the BoE, the chime sounded and we all got to work sweeping the floor. Cheeky Supervisor was sweeping near me, and noticed my shoes.
"Pretty," he said.
"Thank you," I smiled. So far, so good.
He paused, then asked where I got them. "Juntendo?"
I glared at him. Juntendo is the local hardware and home supply store, sort of like Home Depot. Fair enough for him to think I'd gotten them someplace local, but even Kuraichi, the supermarket next to Juntendo, has a decent shoe section; that might have been the better guess. In truth, the shoes had come from Shoes AiLand in Matsue.
So all this might make it sound like the guy drives me nuts, but really I like him. He's funny, he talks to me, and he helps me with car stuff. And he looks over to see what I'm doing on the computer every once in a while.