Trashed elbow

So, as I was riding down rain-swept Midosuji last night, I gave Andrew a bell and asked if I could swing by his pad. He has a new place and it's pimp: nice and spacious and the balcony overlooks a car park. If this doesn't seem like such a bonus, you have only to imagine Andrew and I sitting on the balcony late at night, knocking back spirits and watching a couple getting fresh by the ticket machine through Andrew's Sumo binoculars.

Last night, however, the conditions were not conducive to casual voyeurism; I just wanted to get out of the rain for half an hour or so and maybe check my e-mails. Andrew, being a hospitable guy, said it was AOK. I promised to pick up some fried chicken from the convenience store by way of thanks.

And here's the crux of the story: with one piece of supaishii chikin left, I proposed that we janken for it, winner take all. Andrew pointed out that we could just split it.

My jaw fell open.

Why didn't I think of that? I thought. So simple, so humane.

We split the chicken, although I couldn't help feeling that I'd lost somehow, thanks to my blinkered one-shall-stand-one-shall-fall ethos. Andrew had shown himself to be a far more evolved human being than myself with his philosophy of sharing.

Then again, when I woke up this morning, the following occurred to me:

What a puny weakling; I should crush him and take everything he has for my own.

Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.