Uncle ABC.

"You know, Eri, you're a magnet for weirdos, aren't you?"
While looking at the iPad with the medical charts,
Mitani, a nurse who is also a mom, says.

"I wasn't aware of it, but
I can't deny the possibility that I'm a magnet."

I, too, with an iPad in one hand,
was checking the medication information.

"I'm sure you are. Because just from what I've heard, there are so many of them, aren't there?

I don't think you'd get talked to by strangers every single day otherwise, right?

There's the First Train Uncle, right?
The Red Down Jacket Spiritual Aunt, right?
The Swallow and Rain Forecast Uncle?
The Motorcycle Rock Brother,

and 'Is your new work ready yet?'

In my daily life,
I am a magnet for people who talk to me,
not a magnet for weirdos, but
a magnet auntie.

Without any warning,
people appear right in front of me,
give unnecessary explanations,
lecture me, and then disappear.

For some reason,
it seems I was born under a star that attracts such people.

Among them,
there is one strange
middle-aged man

I can't forget.
It happened a few years ago,at a McDonald's in Shinjuku.

My friend, Kaori,
is a woman with no concept of time.
"Tomorrow, Shinjuku, McDonald's, meet up"
is the only message she sends via LINE.

I don't know what time we're meeting or when she'll arrive. Even if I reply, she doesn't even read it.

Every time, I just wait at that place from around noon. Unfortunately, I'm good at killing time, and it's not once or twice that I've finished reading a new novel while waiting.

As usual, cola, fries, and a novel.
Spreading out my standard lineup,
I prepare myself for a long wait.

"Hello?"

A middle-aged man wearing a baseball cap is waving at me.

I looked around, but
his gaze was clearly fixed on me.

"Hello..."
I replied, having no choice.

The man, with a straight face,
took off his baseball cap,
and sat down across from my table.
It was so natural.

For a moment, I thought, Kaori?
but
Kaori is not yet
that middle-aged.

"Now, for the rest..."

Huh? The rest?

"A... B... C..."

The old man spoke slowly.

ABC?

I stared blankly.
The man raised one eyebrow, as if to say, "Hmm?"

He naturally opened his palm toward me, as if to say, "Come on, it's your turn."

"Come on."

He said, "Come on."
I replied.

"A, B, C."

"Non, non. Aaaay, Beeee, Ceeee."

Apparently, my pronunciation wasn't quite right.

"Aaaay, Beeee, Ceeee."

I repeated it, trying to sound as much like the old man as possible.

The old man smiled with satisfaction.
Having lost my chance to escape, I ended up mastering
AthroughZin the old man's style of English.

The old man
put on a baseball cap.
Then, with a satisfied smile,
he vanished.

At the same time, Kaori arrived.
"Another amazing one came today, huh?"

She, it seemed,
was enjoying my tendency to attract odd characters.

And recently, I was reading an essay and was astonished.

In it, I discovered a description of having my English pronunciation corrected by an uncle in black tights at McDonald's.
I might be a person born under the same stars as Ryo Asai.

I might be a person born under the same stars as Ryo Asai.