I was born a lefty, but apparently somewhere along the way I decided that there must be something to this right-handedness thing, since 90 percent of the world was doing it. I made the switch to using my right hand for most things around the time I started kindergarten, and ever since, the unusual transition has been my go to excuse for never excelling at sports that favor precise dexterity over running into people as hard as you can.

Had I stuck with the cards life had dealt me, though, my daily life might have been different in a number of ways, as shown by this list of troubles left-handed people in Japan run into.

Let’s imagine a day in the life of a Japanese sausupō (southpaw), or hidari-kiki to use the proper term.

When people in Japan need a quick meal, many of them head to the nearest ramen joint. With cheap, filling, and tasty chow, one of Japan’s numerous noodle houses is an almost perfect choice. As an added bonus, in most of them, the majority of the seating is along the counter, so you don’t have to feel self-conscious about dining out alone.

Unless, of course, you’re left-handed, and you and the righty next to you are both battling for the same elbow room during the lunch rush at a packed ramen restaurant in downtown Tokyo.

Not wanting to cause your fellow diner any more inconvenience than you have to, you eat and dash out of the restaurant as quickly as you can. Walking down the street, with your throat parched from the salty broth, you spot one of the many vending machines that dot urban Japan. You walk on up with a handful of coins in your left hand, and see that the coin slot’s on the right.

You know what? You’ve had enough of putting up with society’s right-handed-favoritism for one day. You’re just going to hop on the train and go home. Thankfully, Japan has an efficient and convenient public transportation system. Most turnstiles are even set up so that all you have to do is tap your rail pass against a sensor as you walk through the gate.

And of course, every single one of those sensors is on the right side.

OK, so you’ve finally made it home. What better way to blow off some stea than by firing up your video game console and tearing apart some digital foes? So you wait for the game to load, target some enemies, and now you’re all set to wail away on that attack button……which is on the right side of the controller face.

As your opponents celebrate over the corpse of your fallen left-handed avatar, you find yourself unable to tolerate this injustice any more. You grab a pen and sheet of paper, ready to dash off a fiery diatribe to your local politician demanding he do something about this unfair treatment.

Sadly, even the Japanese language itself occasionally conspires against lefties.

LH 1

Some kanji characters, like the one for aki/autumn above, require several strokes to complete. Making the strokes in the commonly accepted proper order usually results in the best visual balance and legibility. Unfortunately for you, you left-handed weirdo, the strokes usually begin on the left, and end on the right. This means you get to spend the whole writing process worrying about smudging what you’ve just written and earning yourself a nice ink stain on your hand or sleeve.

There is one silver lining, though. Japanese is often written vertically, and when it is the characters are read from top to bottom, and the columns from right to left.

LH 2

In this case, left-handed people actually have an advantage, as people who write with their right hand end up having to drag their forearm across the columns as their passage goes on.

So pen that angry letter with confidence, as remember that the longer your rant goes on, the longer you get to experience one of the rare upsides to being a lefty.

Source: Curazy