Sorry I'm late

The station masters give out these little cards when the train is significantly delayed (more than a few minutes) so you can give them to your boss or fuming boyfriend to prove you're not lying about the train being late.

Delayed train certificate

 

Kaisha toilet etiquette

Or,
Rules I have observed but don't always observe

Upon entering the restroom, if another lady is present, you must greet her with Otsukaresama desu! (Wassup, fellow laborer!)

Please use the sound princess to muffle the sound of your pee. Under no circumstances should your discharge be audibly recognizable. If no sound princess is installed, you must repeatedly flush the toilet while peeing/pooing to mask the sound. Environment be damned. If available, please also use the "powerful deodorizer" button.

Use the cabinet in the restroom to keep your lady toiletries. Keeping tampons in one's desk is unladylike.

A few minutes after lunch, you should join the klatsch of tooth-brushers doing a community polishing. Five or six to a mirror is fine. Try not to spit on your neighbor.

Except when tooth polishing and gossiping, the user should evacuate quickly if another user enters the restroom. Failure to cede the entire area to the incoming user will result in dirty looks and sighing.

Anything to add?

Adventures in the women's restroom

Others have written about the cutthroat business of using the ladies' loo in Japan (her blog's title is even an homage to restroom etiquette), but I got to experience some of the prime high quality drama myself this morning. I think women's kaisha toilets must be near the pinnacle for volume of unwritten rules in toileting.

I got to work about 20 minutes early, and not wanting to go up and settle into the grim-faced, blinds-drawn office quite yet, I ducked into the first floor lav, usually deserted as there are no offices at the lobby level. One of the stalls was occupied - not a problem for me.

The toilets in my office building are kept scrupulously clean, and are the most so first thing in the morning after the cleaning crew has hit them but before the worker drones descend on the building and the daily christening begins. I'm telling you so you can put your mind at ease, but I don't actually care that much if you think I'm gross. In fact, as the doors and walls go all the way down to the floor, they are often used by energy-sapped salarynerds for naps disguised as post-lunch bowel movements.

I went into one of the vacant stalls to take a few minutes to collect myself, wipe my sweaty brow, apply eyeliner that I'm too frazzled to apply at home, and finish up a few rounds of Words with Friends on my phone.

But. My next stall neighbor wasn't happy. She clearly wanted the place to herself - nay, felt entitled to it. First she tried to wait me out, hoping that I would be on my way quickly. But I was in no hurry. F-A-X-E-R. Triple word score! As it became clear I wasn't leaving, the passive-aggressive drama began. Oh! the throat clearing! The sighing! The audible pouting! The put-out petulance! After awhile of this, she exited her stall and stamped around in front of the sinks for a bit. A-G-R-E-E. Hm. Only a double letter on that one. I could hear a lot of hair flipping and turning on and off of the taps. I still had ten minutes to kill. Z-I-L-C-H. Ha! Z on a triple letter! Take that, mom! Finally, with a big huffy sigh, she flounced out. I feel certain that were it not a swinging door, she would have slammed it. Crap. Only Is and Os left. I checked my watch, tacked an I onto the X, fished my key card out of my bag, and went to catch the elevator.

secret discounts

Looking to splash out a bit on my lunchbreak and lacking my usual pbj, I found what seems to be the only Indian restaurant in Shinyoko, Maharaja on the 9F of Cubic Plaza, connected to Shinyokohama station.
They have an 850yen lunch special that gets you your choice of curry, a huge naan bread, and a small salad. There are three vegetarian options, the dal tarka, the navratan, and the palak paneer. The server guy came around and spotted my keycard badge, which I had tucked under my shirt - but he saw the telltale strap around my neck that marks the salarynerds populating the area. "Choose a drink," he told me. Sa-bisu (complimentary) for company workers. I hadn't seen this written anywhere on the menu or at the door, but at his prompting I also picked out a lassi. Pretty nice to get an unexpected secret discount when you weren't expecting one. I guess most kaisha-in are easy to spot. We know you when we see you.

P.S. It turns out you don't have to be a salarynerd - I found this coupon which gets you a free drink whoever you are (with food purchase).