Icy crotch

Icy crotch is probably the nickname the staff at one of my local coffee shops have for me now: I managed to spill the ice cafe latte above all over my nether regions this morning. Thank God I was wearing combats - the coffee stains didn't really show that bad. It was the perfect end to a miserable week.
It's surely because we're smack in the middle of rainy season, but I've been in a funk for the last few days. I have not been at one with the universe at all. Basically, I have been too busy, haven't slept well, have had a lot of small accidents, have messed up a couple times, and have generally felt like throwing in the towel every day.
Even my boss noticed. Having left my beautiful packed lunch at home in the fridge (after having gotten the wrong train to work that morning), I had to run out and grab something to eat (not easy when you have a twenty minute break all day). Going out the door I must have looked kind of sketchy because my boss was like, 'Please come back! Things aren't that bad.'
And things really aren't that bad - I'm just in a mood because it has barely stopped raining now for the last two weeks and the greyness is weighing me down. Ah 梅雨　 (tsuyu - rainy season) in Japan - you gotta love it.
To compound my gloom, I read a disturbing article in the newspaper yesterday. It was an interview with the 'guru' who founded the school of yoga I joined a few months ago. I love the yoga he has developed, I love how it makes me feel, and I love the way Japanese people teach it. But man, the guy behind it all is a dick (excuse my French)! His philosophy sucks, his character sucks, and what he stands for is nothing like what I identify with.
He's in it for the money and the fame. Yoga is a business to him. And that's cool. But the horrible way he spoke to the students he was teaching, the way he talked about his wife and family, the arrogant and groundless assertions he made. Oh it was such a let down.
Don't get me wrong. I'm still going to keep going to and enjoying the classes. Like I said, I love how fit his form of yoga can make me. But my mind and spirit aren't going to get any enrichment from what this guy has created. For that, I'll have to look elsewhere.
Anyway, wah wah wah. I need to get over myself, so I'll tell you another chilling story about spilling drinks in coffee shops.
Years ago, I was teaching a student in a cafe in Machida. Sitting near us was a young man alone at a table. Beside him sat a young woman, also alone.
Suddenly, commotion! The girl had spilled her iced coffee all over the guy's table. The was lots of to-ing and fro-ing with towels and damp clothes, embarrassed laughter, repeated apologies, and so on.
Things calmed down and, rather than returning to their silent, solitary reading, the girl and guy got chatting. The ice had been broken (as well as spilled), and they ended up leaving together.
I thought this was all quite romantic and spontaneous and said so to my student.
She looked at me incredulously and assured me that there was no way this had happened by chance. She maintained that the girl had planned the whole thing.
In a country where the men are notoriously shy and where interaction between strangers is infreqeuent, if not discouraged, it can be important for women to develop strategies to meet men.
Apparently, among Japanese girls, the old 'drink spill' is a classic! You get to shriek and run about all girly and damsel-in-distressy. You get to look submissive, kneeling on the ground cleaning up the mess. And crucially you get a chance to make a second meeting, promising to pay for dry cleaning or treat the 'mark' to a coffee at another date to say sorry.
I was horrified. Are women really so manipulative? Short answer: yes! I asked around and met with a chorus of affirmation.
What do you think, gentle reader? Am I the only romantic soul left who thinks this was all sweet Cupid's work?
Worse still, what does it say about ME that the only spillage action I've seen in my four years here has been self inflicted?