Accidental Office Lady. Laura Kriska

the table at an angle so that you don’t disrupt the conversation.” In one fluid motion she placed the teacup and saucer on the table without making a sound. Then she backed away and moved around to the outside of the guest’s chair and placed the second cup. Each time she reached, she whispered, “Shitsurei shimasu,” as if to cushion the obtuse gesture.

      She held the empty tray flat against her body as she surveyed the room before backing slowly into the door. She turned to open the door and then turned back to face the room, bowed and retreated backwards once more mouthing the refrain, “Shitsurei shimasu.”

      “Now it’s your turn,” she said, walking back into the room and collecting the cups. I took the tray and balanced it with one hand.

      “Use two hands,” she instructed. I proceeded to the table. “Be more discreet. Keep your head down,” she said.

      When I got close to the table, I grabbed one of the saucers and placed it next to one of the women. “Don’t get so close,” Ms. Mori cried. “You don’t want to interrupt them.” I started to place the second cup between the two women, but Ms. Mori stopped me. “Never go in-between when you can go around.”

      When I finished the task she told me to do it all again, this time starting from outside. I collected the props and left the room. Staring at the closed door, I felt my stomach tighten and had a powerful urge to turn and walk away.

      What was I doing here? The months of training in America before coming to Japan seemed meaningless at that moment. I thought back to the month working on the assembly line in Ohio on the morning shift. Working on the line was tiring and repetitive, but at least I had felt useful.