Japanese Slang (18 page)

•   
Koko de okihiki, asoko de narabihiki—kore wa boro m
ke da ze!
A little riffle here, a little dip there—you can make a killing!

•   
Nanda omae! Semai sode ja dakko ni naran
ze!

•   C'mon man! That sleeve's too tight. How d'you expect to slip things up there?

•   
Aitsu wa ate ni naran
kara, oshidori yaru no wa gomen da ze!
He's just totally unreliable, there's no way I'd partner up with him!

•   
Ore wa matsu nuki ja shigoto wa shin
yo! Baka y
na yo!
I'd never work unless I had someone to pass the loot to! Don't talk shit!

The man in charge of the group is called by some
kiku
(criterion), by others less sophisticated,
gy
ji
(cow's ear). In the largest operations, he will sit in a high-rise office with a view, and marshal operatives by phone, beeper, or computer e-mail, but in smaller enterprises he will be out there, his hands slipping in and out of pockets. Whether working in absentia or on location, his vital function is to be the group's referee. He will call the players together, set the strategy, signal the start, and, when the game is over, flag the players off the field. To secure the safety of his operatives he employs lookouts to eye street entrances and exits for possible patrols. These are the
katobu
(mosquito is flying),
tsuki
(attached),
torisu
and
sutori,
both inverted versions of
suri to
(with the pickpocket). Groups that have Korean underworld connections call their lookouts by the ultra-secret Korean code names
kunni
and
chiye.
In the event of a botched job these lookouts double as lifesaving buffers and stumbling blocks. As the screaming victims run after the pickpockets the lookouts, masquerading as concerned bystanders or curious onlookers, can skitter into the way, blocking, tripping, or even tackling the victims if need be.

At the Station

Many talented pickpockets work in train stations. These are taxi-stand jostlers, ticket-line heisters, waiting-room prowlers, many brands of train-riding thief, and platform pros. All have their own federations, distinct working methods, and own special blend of station pickpocketese known as
shaba ago
(from
teishaba,
“railroad depot,” and
ago,
“jaw”).

When a train pulls in everyone jumps to attention. The platform specialists are the first on the scene. They are the
giri
(“grabbers,” from
nigiru,
“to grab”),
girijin
(grab men),
giriya
(grab dealers),
girisha
(grab individuals), girishi (grab specialists), and
girikonosha
(grab-guy individuals). Some platform prowlers prefer the tough ethnic Korean word
parami
(wind). Like a strong gust, the reasoning goes, they sweep over platforms, taking with them wallets, bags, briefcases, and even pieces of luggage.

•   
D
y
wake ka getsuy
wa giri ga
in da yo na.
For some reason the place is teeming with grabbers every Monday.

•   
Ky
wa hoka no girijin wa doko ni itchimattan dai?
Where did all the grab men go today?

•   
Densha ga okureteru kara parami no rench
wa cha demo nomi ni itten ja n
ka.
The train's late, so I guess all the winds are off drinking tea.