by Sakana
"Fraser, what's wrong?"
"I, uh. . . nothing. Nothing. Are you enjoying your meal?"
"Yeah, it's actually not as bad as I thought. If you're careful with this green stuff. Why aren't you trying some? This place was your idea."
"Well, the thing is, I. . . I just can't seem to bring myself to make the appropriate noise required when performing this activity."
"Performing? Required? There's nothing required here other than this annoying pair of chopsticks, Benny. And I know you can use 'em much better than I am. Come on, eat up."
"Right. Okay. I'll just. . ."
. . .
. . .
"Oh, what's with you! We gotta get back to the Shinjuku division in twenty minutes. Are you gonna give that all to Dief?"
"You're completely right. I'm sorry."
"I don't know what all this fuss is about. I mean I've seen you put much stranger things into your mouth. Just think of it as some kind of weird-colored bavettine."
"Well, that's exactly my problem, Ray. You see, if I were having pasta, it would be easy for me to eat it and not slurp it; that's our etiquette. However, in this culture, it is customary to slurp your noodles. Look around you. . . No, don't actually *look* around, that isn't polite. But you've noticed everyone making these slurping sounds, haven't you?"
"Yeah. It's pretty disgusting, isn't it? Ruffles your feathers, huh?"
"No no, not at all. See, as I've read once in my grandmother's library, that is considered good etiquette in this country."
"Okay then. Go ahead. I promise I won't tell Thatcher."
"I. . . can't."
"You don't know how to slurp?!"
"Of course I do, Ray. It's just. . . it's. . . I can't. . ."
"Bring yourself to. I can see that. Well fine, don't then."
"I can't. . . I should. It would be rude not to."
"Huh? How can it be rude not to slurp!"
"It can, Ray. In fact in many areas of the world it is. The idea of propriety can be quite different from one culture to another. For instance, the Inuit…"
"Oh, the Inuit, the Inuit. This isn't about the Inuit! Eat. The. Damn. Noodles."
"Of course, of course. Sorry, Ray. I. . . uh. . . Yes, ma'am?"
"I noticed you not eating. Is anything wrong with your soba?"
"Oh, no, it's fine. I'm sure it's delicious. Thank you for your concern."
"Shall I change it for another one?"
"No, thank you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm quite sure, ah - Ms. Sato. It's really nothing like that. I'm afraid it's a little difficult for me to make the appropriate sound required in your society's code of etiquette."
"Etiquette? Uh, pardon?"
"Slurping. Slurrrrp. He thinks we all have to slurp."
"Oh. Well. That isn't something you have to do. Slurping is good, it's the tasteful way to eat soba. But it's OK to eat quietly, too. That doesn't mean bad etiquette. The only bad thing is to be late. Soba becomes long when you eat late."
"Long?"
"Long. . . we call it long. Soft. Stale. Not good anymore. Here, wait a second, I'll get you a fresh serving."
"Oh. I see. Thank you kindly."
"See, Benny? There is such a thing as worrying too much about etiquette, after all."
