A graduation album and a wedding the next day

Something to prove who I was

When I first became a comedian, I had no money. None. And then I had a friend’s wedding to go to the next day. I needed to give a cash gift.

I didn’t want to ask my parents, and I couldn’t turn to my friends either. Then it hit me: a consumer-loan company. Looking back with a clear head, I think that was a last resort I shouldn’t have touched. But at the time, it seemed like my only option.

The problem was, I didn’t have anything to prove my identity. No health insurance card, no driver’s license, and certainly no passport.

Then I thought of my high-school graduation album.

It had my photo. It had my address. Surely that proved I was me!

So I put the album in a bag and went to a loan kiosk. A voice asked me to show identification. I couldn’t see the person on the other end, but it seemed they could see me. There was a little recess the size of a license or insurance card. Apparently they copied or faxed whatever you put there.

And into that tiny recess, I tried to put my graduation album.

Too big.

It wouldn’t fit.

But by some miracle, my photo—the one under Iwasaki (岩崎)—was near the upper left. So I put that corner into the recess and kept saying into the handset, “Uh, this is me. Right here.”

The person sounded like they were half laughing. I pictured it: “Hey, someone’s brought a graduation album. Everyone, come look!”

Then they asked for my address, sounding very much as if they wanted to turn me down. I said, completely seriously, “It’s in the back. Shall I read it out?” I was serious. I needed 30,000 yen for the wedding.

“Well, sir…” The whole conversation felt like a rejection. But I kept pleading, “Please, I really need you to lend it to me!” For about twenty minutes.

Eventually: “If you insist that much, all right.” They lent it to me.

Thirty thousand yen!