Jackie_m
Today I suddenly realized that if I work today, I will have another three-day weekend, and I left the company feeling like I gained something. The back staircase was completely destroyed, but wooden frames were gradually forming steps, and I wondered if pouring concrete on them would create a new staircase. It was quite run-down, but without an escalator, everyone would probably just use the new elevator at Summit. Maybe it would be better to turn this place into terraced fields and aim to be the best rice producer in Japan (brand name: Ghost Rice). I slyly took the elevator to the top and tried to go to the best soba restaurant in the area, "Tanaka," but unfortunately, it was closed for a while. I ended up going down to the Meirenzaka intersection, crossed the Shobuhashi street, turned north on the Chuo street, and realized that there was also a "Osaka Ohsho" restaurant here! I felt a strange sense of incongruity in the bland space, but since the restaurant seemed to be operating properly, I decided to go in. The restaurant had a futuristic glass design, with chairs that had no backrests, and no place to put bags or coats, but I endured it because style came first. I heard a "welcome!" when I entered, but I hesitated to talk to the two men cooking in the open kitchen, so I waited for the waiter to take my order. Unfortunately, no one appreciated my discerning nature when I finally placed my order for the "Gyoza set meal" @850 yen. The set meal, like "Gyoza no Ohsho," featured twelve gyoza as the power unit, and the order number was also 12. I thought it would have been perfect if they had added an alphabet at the end to show off the specifications, like "Gyoza set meal 12R," and a catchphrase like "Before the 300km/h speed limit!" The waiter skillfully arranged the food in front of me, and I was amazed by how acrobatically he did it. Although I could have easily eaten the rice, which was arranged at a 90-degree angle, by twisting my upper body using my yoga skills, I refrained from doing so to avoid being seen as a weird old man. I didn't notice that the soup had turned sour when I added vinegar to it, mistaking it for soy sauce, but when I realized that it was actually gyoza sauce, I found the soup to be too sour. The container for the soup looked just like a soy sauce container, didn't it? In any case, I managed to finish the meal without touching the "Ramen Show" next to it, and I appreciated the stability that both Osaka Ohsho restaurants shared. As I paid and left, I couldn't shake the feeling of dissatisfaction with the blandness of the place. I thought maybe it was because there was no sign. Perhaps they were warned by the police and had to take it down. Maybe it was just after the regulations were put in place. But the neighboring "Sukiya" had a sign. ==========