On a cool, sunny Tuesday, I bought this Bianchi Boardwalk bicycle from a Japanese woman. We arranged it on craigslist. The price was low.
The story behind the bike seems melancholic. The woman came to meet me in front of the Starbucks with her (apparent) husband and young son. They each said ohayogozaimasu to me but we had no trouble switching to English. There are two stickers on the frame: a police registration in Osaka (but she wrote "There is no registration documents.") and "SHIROKANE TOWER" with some number field whited out. Maybe they moved from Osaka to Shirokane 5 years ago and the child took priority over boardwalk bicycling?
In a Haruki Murakami story, perhaps she would be making spaghetti at home right now.