Breakfast Club Japan

You haven’t truly been my friend until I’ve slaved over a hot griddle and cooked up some tasty treats for your consumption. Yes, the Breakfast Club is an exclusive party. Only a gracious few have entered the dining quarters of Woodgate Manor after a drunken spill through the mean streets of Buffalo. I enjoyed making breakfast for my intoxicated friends. The house special was my trademark French toast. These ‘gatherings’ got so big that once my buddy Paragon showed up after 4am at my house. When asked why he randomly appeared, he said “I drove by, saw the cars, and figured there was a breakfast club in session.” Smart man. He ate well. Others (you know who you are) blackmailed me into cooking. Bob even pretended to start making pancakes only to walk away leaving me to once again ‘do my thang.’ Another smart man, but also lazy.

So I figured, why not spread the love overseas? While, I haven’t exactly taken the Breakfast Club to its late night roots, I offered to cook for two of my favorite co-workers. They agreed. You must realize that in Japan, I could offer to punch their kids in the gut, and they would oblige. They don’t reject ANY kind gesture.

So on Thursday, September 4th 2008 I showed up to school at 7:40am proudly waving my cooler full of prepared food. (Mike you would have so laughed at how obvious I made it look). I had prepared French toast, scrambled eggs with cheese, sausage (cocktail wiener), bacon, and sliced cantaloupe. I forced them to use a fork and knife, saying “an American breakfast calls for American utensils, chopsticks aren’t allowed here.”



I think they enjoyed it, but who really knows. What I do know is that other teachers took notice and one claimed envy. I just hope this doesn’t become a weekly thing. Cheers!