I have a Va-Jay-Jay, therefore I am NOT equal?

Yesterday, my house was filled with five little Japanese men, who literally descended upon my home within a mere 4 seconds of ringing my doorbell. Two of which scaled my four story home after being lifted up into the air by a crane/box type thing, and the other two ran up my stairs, into my living room and immediately began hooking up all types of cables, wires and routers. What was the purpose of this chaos you ask? Well, Mr. Top Gun and I opted for the uber fast fiber optic internet and TV package and this takes a month for them to set up... yeah, a freakin month for some cables and wires! I shall now digress from this tangent and discuss the real subject of the post. As you know, in Japan women are not viewed as equals to their male counterparts. They do not have doors held open for them (never seen it happen yet,) men do not stand close to a women who is not their wife/fiancee, and the DO NOT SPEAK to the woman of the house unless the MAN is home?? Yep, that's right! and it happened to me yesterday.

Mr. Top Gun was not home, so I ensured I finished my errands early in the day so I would be home when the men showed up for the installation. 2:00 rolls around and I hear a knock at the door, so I buzz them in via our fancy intercom system :) The Japanese guy WILL NOT come into my home. In fact, when I went downstairs to the first floor to let him in, he STEPPED AWAY FROM ME! He was literally speaking to me from across the yard- in the rain. I ushered him inside, where he proceeded to first place his shoes outside, in the rain... I brought them in and he thanked me and ran up the stairs. As they are running around my home, I realize nobody is speaking to me and when I would go down to the laundry room or walk around the house (where they were working,) they would scatter and suddenly go outside. So, I decide the best thing for me to do is start baking a chocolate pie for Mr. Top Gun. Hey, at least I would be in the kitchen and OUT of their way and hopefully their view... NOPE. Didn't work either!

By this time, I am beyond frustrated at the lack of communication, the language barrier (nobody spoke any English,) and not being able to get a hold of Mr. Top Gun. After leaving about 500 voicemails on his cellphone, Mr. Top Gun calls me and immediately says this: "I am on my way home now. What the heck is going on. Are you ok? Your messages sound like you are going to crack." YES I AM GOING TO CRACK. So, come home please? After the phone call, I am pointed at by one of the workers and then he points at the wall... what? Apparently he needed an extra power grid and cord, which would have been a simple thing to ask me for right? No. Instead I finally decipher that he needs one of two things, so I again frantically call Mr. Top Gun and tell him to go to the BX and get the power grid and cord because I can't speak to them anymore. As usual, my incredible husband saves the day and arrives shortly after with the goodies, but not after I am looked at like I am crazy for offering them bottled water- which, I took downstairs to them and naturally as they see me walking towards them they ALL BACK AWAY. Thank GOD Mr. Top Gun came home in time right?

I'm not finished yet. This story gets better! As I am waiting for Mr. Top Gun, the lady from the internet company calls me and tells me we need to come to their office to be assigned a password for our network, and she will not do this over the phone- at all. I tried to be nice with her, but I admit to raising my voice and telling her she was 'absolutely ridiculous' for asking me to do this! With goodies in hand now, Mr. Top Gun shows the men the power grid and cables and they start plugging things in- Magic! He then tells me he is going to drive down to the internet office and get the password set up, and he'll be back soon. At this point, he tells one of the men that he is leaving to get a password and then this happens: The guy inside our home RUNS over to the contract papers which have our info on it and points at ME and shakes his head. He then points at Mr. Top Gun, points to the papers and points at me again. I finally realize he is ASKING MR. TOP GUN'S PERMISSION TO ALLOW ME TO SIGN MY NAME ON THE WORK ORDER COMPLETION FORM!!!! Because his name was listed as the primary account owner, I could not sign anything without his oral permission. Oh, and all of this nonsense was because I have a va-jay-jay.