# #248 おまけ「台風エピソード」 - Show: ダイアンのTOKYO STYLE - Published: 2026-10-05 - Canonical: https://podc.club/en/episode/1601910075_94d1d025c227.html - Audio: https://pdst.fm/e/pscrb.fm/rss/p/traffic.megaphone.fm/TBS6264821354.mp3 - Source: Edited from a machine transcript of the first 30 minutes of the episode. Not an official summary. In this bonus episode of Diane no TOKYO STYLE (ダイアンのTOKYO STYLE), the duo works through three listener typhoon stories—a self-proclaimed typhoon magnet, a childhood trauma involving a pig in a flooded river, and a stranded office worker who ended up in a Prince Hotel suite. They then tackle a love confession about a massage therapist and debate exactly when a man becomes an 'ojisan,' closing as always with the Morning Mount segment. ## What this episode answers ### What kinds of experiences has the self-described 'typhoon woman' had with typhoons affecting her travels over the past 30 years? Over 30 years, a direct typhoon hit cancelled only one of her trips; on milder typhoon days she has had lucky windfalls like riding the same roller coaster repeatedly at an empty Disneyland, prompting the duo to call her 'a child of God' for drawing typhoons no matter when she takes time off. ### What did a listener witness in a swollen river during childhood after a typhoon? At age four, the listener watched a single pig being swept downstream in a muddy, swollen river after a typhoon—an image that still flashes through her mind whenever she sees a flooded river today. ### What happened to the office worker who was stranded in Nagoya by heavy rain and couldn't get home? Her company booked a suite at the Prince Hotel with lounge access for snacks and drinks; she stayed for breakfast the next morning and laughed at the absurd gap between the chaos she saw on TV and her own luxurious situation, vowing to stay with the company for life. ### How did Diane respond to around-40 married listener Junpei-san's question about asking out his massage therapist? The phrase 'your wife is so lucky' in Junpei-san's letter immediately revealed he was married, and the duo flatly rejected any idea of an affair; even setting that aside, they said every flattering word from the staff was pure service talk designed to secure the next appointment. ### When does a person become an 'ojisan,' and what was Diane's conclusion? Diane concluded that 48 is already firmly middle-aged by any measure of age, regardless of how young someone looks; they noted that men who dye their hair or style it oddly in denial of their age are the most 'ojisan' of all, and that aging with style is the better goal. ## Article ## The Typhoon Woman's 30-Year Travel Luck Listener P. Kawaa-san (P.カワーさん) from Aichi Prefecture describes herself as a "typhoon woman to an extreme degree." Every time she plans a trip, a typhoon forms somewhere—even if it never hits her directly—and she spends the days before departure anxious about whether transport will run. That said, typhoons have also handed her unexpected windfalls: on one mild typhoon day she rode the same roller coaster again and again at a nearly empty Disneyland. Over 30 years, a direct hit has cancelled her trip only once. The duo suggested she simply avoid typhoon season, but then conceded that if typhoons follow her no matter when she takes time off, "you're basically a child of God." The story naturally rolled into a broader riff on rain-prone people, with Yusuke (ゆうすけ) admitting he considers himself a "rain man." ## A Four-Year-Old Witnesses a Pig Swept Away Another listener shared a vivid childhood memory. When she was four, a nearby river flooded during a typhoon and the water reached her front door, though damage was narrowly avoided. After the storm passed, she went to look at the river with her grandmother—and saw a single pig being carried away in the swollen, muddy current. There was nothing to do but watch it go. The image burned itself into her memory and still surfaces whenever she sees a flooded river as an adult. The duo were visibly shaken. "You'd never forget that," one said. "A pig—that sticks in your head." They joked that now they'd probably imagine a pig lurking in any river, even after the water receded. Where the pig came from—an upstream farm, a breakout—was never established. ## A Suite at the Prince Hotel Courtesy of Nagoya's Downpour A listener from Aichi recounted being stranded at the office in Nagoya when heavy rain suspended all train lines. The taxi queue was impossibly long. Then her company stepped in: it booked a Prince Hotel suite for female employees who couldn't get home. The room was vast and glass-walled, lined with sofas, and came with lounge access for light food and drinks in lieu of dinner. She stayed through breakfast the next morning, looking down from the upper floors at a gridlock of cars below while following the disaster coverage on TV—and started laughing at the enormous gap between the two realities. "I'd been thinking about quitting many times," she wrote, "but that night I vowed to stay with this company forever." The duo were impressed. "That's a great company." One half floated a conspiratorial theory: "Maybe management knew she was thinking of leaving and pulled this as a retention move." ## A Love Confession About a Massage Therapist Junpei-san (ジュンペーさん) from Tokyo wrote in about a 25-year-old female staff member at the massage (momihogushi) shop he visits twice a month. She says things like "You coming in is my lucky day," "Your wife is so lucky," and "Our time is almost up—I'll miss you." An around-40 man working in an all-male office, he asked whether it would be okay to ask for her number or invite her to dinner. The phrase "your wife" gave everything away instantly. The duo immediately read it as confirmation he was married. "You're thinking about having an affair—what are you doing?" they said, shutting the idea down firmly. And even if he were single, they said every line she delivers is pure service talk designed to get him to book the next appointment. One of them added that developing romantic feelings for someone whose job involves physical touch from the start is "a bit gross" as a baseline. Their final ruling: if married, an absolute no; if single, he's technically free to ask—but don't kid yourself about what her words mean. ## When Does a Man Become an "Ojisan"? A 48-year-old listener wrote in asking when exactly a man becomes an *ojisan* (middle-aged man). He said that looking at Diane, neither of them reads as middle-aged—especially Yusuke, who he said could pass for a high schooler—and that he himself has no sense of having become one either. The duo's response was immediate: "This person is extremely ojisan." They acknowledged that looking young and being young are separate questions, and that 48 is solidly middle-aged by age regardless of appearance. Their sharpest point: men who dye their hair or style it in odd ways precisely because they can't accept being middle-aged are the most *ojisan* of all. On the flip side, they noted that women in their 40s and 50s often appreciate a distinguished, mature man—so looking too young has its own drawbacks. Their conclusion: aiming to age with style beats fighting the reality of age. ## Takeaways - The self-described 'typhoon woman' has had only one cancellation in 30 years of typhoon-disrupted travel and has even scored lucky perks like an empty Disneyland, earning the duo's label of 'child of God.' - A pig swept away in a flooded river remains a vivid childhood trauma decades later, and a massage therapist's flattering lines are service talk—not a green light to pursue a romance, especially for a married man. - Being 48 makes you an *ojisan* by age regardless of how you look, and men who style or dye their way out of admitting it only prove the point further—aging with dignity is the smarter move.