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About Saitama

So picture this—I’m walkin’ down some grimy street, right? Neon lights flicker, smells like regret and cheap cologne. I’m neurotic as hell, sweatin’, thinkin’, “Am I really doin’ this?” Then bam—this lady’s there, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a cigarette like she’s in a damn noir film. I’m like, “Okay, Larry, don’t screw this up.” I ask, “You, uh, workin’?” She looks at me, smirks—SMIRKS!—and says, “What’s it look like, genius?” I’m furious! The nerve! But also, kinda happy—she’s got sass, I respect that.

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Finally, I fix the watch, and the old guy is stoked. He’s like, “You’re a genius!” I’m blushing, but inside, I’m like, “Nah, just a dude with tools.” He pays me, and I’m feeling good.

Motherhood, In Their Own Words: Asian American Women Reflect on Differences Between how Their Mothers Raised Them and how They are Raising Their own Children