In this skill
The course taught you each staff script in one canonical wording: Fukuro wa go-riyou desu ka for the bag, Atatamemasu ka for the microwave, Nan-mei sama desu ka at the restaurant door. Real Japan agrees about the questions but not about the words — every chain drapes the same decisions in its own politeness formula, so the line that actually arrives is often one you never drilled. The decision words survive every rewording; this skill trains you to catch them through any wrapper.
Two parts. First, the wardrobe: the short, closed set of wrappers staff Japanese dresses in — most of which you’ve already met one at a time, without being told they were a system. Second, the gauntlet: thirty-one real counter lines, the decisions you already own in wordings you haven’t heard — spoken by twelve voices the course has never used, because field Japan won’t sound like the four narrators you’ve grown comfortable with either. The Anki deck shuffles them, and the shuffle is the point — in the field, the next question is never the one you’re expecting.
Nothing on this page is for your mouth. You never say any of it — staff keigo aimed back at staff would sound like mockery. Your answers stay the tiny set you’ve had all along: onegaishimasu, daijoubu desu, hai, a noun. What this skill adds is purely an ear.
You need the finished core (Lessons 1–9); no other skill is assumed. (The price announcements near the end land best if you’ve taken Prices at Speed, but the wrapper is the lesson there, not the number.)
For once, don’t repeat these aloud. Tap each line, listen at full speed, decide what’s being asked and what you’d answer — then check yourself against the reveal. Tap again as often as you like.
The wardrobe
Staff Japanese is your Japanese wearing formal dress, and the wardrobe is small. Every wrapper below has already brushed past you somewhere in the course — collected here as the system it secretly was:
| The wrapper | What it’s doing | Where you met it |
|---|---|---|
o- / go- before a word | respect-dress on the word itself — strip it and find a word you know | o-kutsu = shoes (Capsule Hotel), o-jikan = time (Animal Cafés) |
… wa omochi desu ka | “do you have …?” | the point card (L3), the member card (Karaoke), ID (Package Pickup), the prescription (Pharmacy) |
… wa go-riyou desu ka | “will you be using …?” | the bag (Lesson 3) |
… wa yoroshii desu ka | “is … all right?” — careful: often flipped (next section) | paying together (Lesson 5), clearing plates (Izakaya) |
… wa ikaga desu ka | “would you like …?” | the drink-bar upsell (Karaoke) |
… nasaimasu ka / … saremasu ka | “will you do …?” | the barber’s opener (Long Stay), trying on (Tax-Free), payment (L3) |
… ni narimasu / … to narimasu | “it is / it comes to …” — an announcement, not a question | cash only (L3), last orders (L5), the table charge (Izakaya) |
… te orimasu / … de gozaimasu | the same announcements, one collar starchier | the opening-hours repair drills (Lesson 7, Onsen, Ryokan) |
… itashimasu / … mairimasu | “we humbly do it / it humbly comes” | the ticket check (Trains), the arriving train (Lesson 6) |
go-enryo kudasai / -naide kudasai | “please refrain / please don’t” | photography (Shrines), pod calls (Capsule Hotel), sleeping cats (Animal Cafés) |
kashikomarimashita | “certainly” — your order just registered | the Dietary and net-café dialogs |
mamonaku | “any moment now” | the arriving train (L6), the fireworks (Festivals) |
That’s the whole wardrobe. When a line arrives fast and formal, it is one of these shapes around a word you own — the skill is refusing to be impressed by the tailoring.
The o- words you already own
One more thing the course never mentioned: you’ve been speaking keigo since Lesson 1. A handful of your own words carry the o-/go- prefix fused on permanently — okane, ocha, otsuri, okaikei, onaka, ofuro, omiyage, osusume, gohan, goshuin, gochisousama, gomennasai, and onegaishimasu itself. Nobody says kane or han for money and rice in polite conversation; the dress is baked in, so the course taught you the dressed form as the word. That gives you the two-way rule for the prefix: strip it to find a word you know (o-kutsu → kutsu, o-nomimono → nomimasu’s drink-things) — but never strip the ones you learned it on. And watch the middle case: the course taught you mizu and bentou plain, but the waiter says o-mizu and the konbini clerk says o-bentou — same words, dressed for work.
The flipped question
One wrapper needs its own warning label. … wa yoroshii desu ka — “is … all right?” — often arrives flipped: Fukuro wa yoroshii desu ka usually means “you’re fine without a bag, right?” A cheerful hai declines the bag. This is the same polarity trap as kekkou desu in Lesson 9, and the dodge is the same move you learned there: never answer these with a bare hai or iie. Answer with content — onegaishimasu (I want it) or daijoubu desu (no thanks) — and the polarity of the question stops mattering entirely. Every flipped card below repeats this dodge, because it’s the one habit in this skill that changes what you do rather than what you hear.
The konbini counter, reworded
Five decisions, every chain in its own costume. The drilled version opens each set; the strangers follow.
The bag.
Fukuro wa go-riyou desu ka.
The Lesson 3 original — go-riyou = “honorably use.”
Reji-bukuro wa go-nyuuyou desu ka.
Go-nyuuyou = “honorably needed” — different wrapper, same bag. Reji-bukuro is literally “register bag.”
Fukuro, o-tsuke shimasu ka.
O-tsuke shimasu — “shall I humbly attach.” You’ll hear this same shape offering spoons, chopsticks, and gift ribbon.
Fukuro wa yoroshii desu ka.
The flip. Hai here means “right, no bag.” Content words only.
The microwave.
Atatamemasu ka.
The original — the plainest question in retail Japan.
O-bentou, atatamemasu ka.
The Depachika booster’s bentou in work clothes — catch the word inside the o-.
O-atatame shimasu ka.
Same microwave, o-…shimasu wrapper — the clerk humbly does the heating.
The point card.
Pointo kaado wa omochi desu ka.
The original omochi desu ka — you’ll meet this wrapper holding member cards, prescriptions, and ID all over the course.
Apuri wa omochi desu ka.
The modern version — the card became an app; the question didn’t change shape.
Pointo kaado wa yoroshii desu ka.
Flipped again — “we can skip the point card, yes?” Daijoubu desu closes it either way.
The payment.
O-shiharai wa dou saremasu ka.
The original, in the saremasu wrapper.
O-shiharai houhou wa ikaga nasaimasu ka.
Maximum tailoring — ikaga + nasaimasu around the same question. Catch shiharai, answer genkin desu.
Genkin desu ka, kaado desu ka.
What the question collapses to after one sumimasen — Lesson 6’s own choice enumeration, offered back to you. Clerks downshift like this for anyone who opened with Nihongo wa chotto dake wakarimasu.
Chopsticks, spoons, receipts.
O-hashi wa go-riyou desu ka.
The bag’s wrapper, holding chopsticks — buy a bento and this follows.
Supuun, o-tsuke shimasu ka.
O-tsuke shimasu again — the attach-wrapper works for any small extra.
Reshiito wa go-riyou desu ka.
The receipt question — asked a thousand times a day at every register in Japan.
Reshiito wa yoroshii desu ka.
And its flip. By now the dodge is reflex: content words, never bare hai.
For here, or to go.
Kochira de omeshiagari desu ka.
The original — o-meshiagari is “honorably eat,” the fanciest verb in the konbini.
Tennai de o-meshiagari desu ka.
Tennai = inside the shop; the rest is the line you know.
O-mochikaeri desu ka.
Your own mochikaeri de chunk, wearing its o- — you’ve been able to answer this one since Lesson 3.
The restaurant, reworded
The door.
Nan-mei sama desu ka.
Lesson 5’s original — -mei-sama is the keigo headcount counter; your answer stays futari desu.
Nan-mei sama deshou ka.
Deshou ka — desu ka with its edges sanded off. Same question, softer landing; you’ll hear this ending everywhere.
O-futari-sama desu ka.
Your futari in the honorific sandwich o-…-sama — the host counting you at a glance and checking.
The order.
Go-chuumon wa o-kimari desu ka.
The waiter arriving at your table is asking this — “ready to order?” Catch chuumon (order — the Package Pickup booster’s word) inside the wrapping, or don’t: someone standing at your table with a pad only ever means one thing, and Lesson 5’s point-and-order answers it.
O-nomimono wa ikaga desu ka.
Nomimono = drink-things — nomimasu, nouned and dressed. The ikaga wrapper means an offer is on the table.
The kitchen’s replies.
Kashikomarimashita.
The service “certainly.” You’ve heard it mid-dialog in the Dietary and net-café packs; here it is alone, because it follows every order you’ll ever place.
Shou-shou omachi kudasaimase.
Lesson 5’s shou-shou omachi kudasai with a -mase tail — the same flourish that ends irasshaimase. Department stores love it.
The bill.
Go-issho de yoroshii desu ka.
Lesson 5’s original — and a useful contrast: this yoroshii desu ka isn’t flipped. “Together OK?” means exactly what it says.
O-kaikei wa go-issho desu ka.
Your own okaikei opening the same question — catch it plus go-issho and you’re done.
Betsu-betsu ni nasaimasu ka.
The Izakaya booster’s betsu-betsu handed back to you as a nasaimasu question.
The clock and the crowd.
Raasuto oodaa ni narimasu.
The original ni narimasu announcement from Lesson 5.
Mamonaku heiten no o-jikan to narimasu.
Three wrappers stacked: mamonaku (any moment), o-jikan (the Animal Cafés’ “time” in dress), to narimasu. Heiten = closing — when the ceiling speakers say this over gentle music, the whole store starts drifting to the registers.
Urikire desu.
Lesson 5’s plain-spoken bad news.
Tadaima manseki to natte orimasu.
The events pack’s manseki in the starchiest announcement wrapper — to natte orimasu. Tadaima = right now. Same family as the lodging world’s manshitsu; the move is the same: next place.
Shops, desks, and the walls
The fitting room.
Go-shichaku nasaimasu ka.
The Tax-Free booster’s original, in the nasaimasu wrapper.
Go-shichaku saremasu ka.
The exact same question in saremasu — the payment question’s wrapper. Two shops, two tailors, one decision.
The total.
Happyaku-en ni narimasu.
Ni narimasu announcing money — the single most common sentence you’ll hear in Japan. The register display always has your back; Prices at Speed retires even that.
O-kaikei wa sen-en de gozaimasu.
Your own okaikei opening a de gozaimasu sentence — desu in a tuxedo, nothing more.
The desk.
Mibunshoumeisho wa omochi desu ka.
The Package Pickup booster’s ID question — omochi desu ka holding its heaviest noun.
Kochira ni o-namae o onegaishimasu.
Namae with its o- — hotels, net cafés, and rental counters all say this while turning a form toward you.
The walls.
Satsuei wa go-enryo kudasai.
The Shrines booster’s original go-enryo kudasai.
Tennai de no satsuei wa go-enryo itadaite orimasu.
The same rule as a standing policy — go-enryo itadaite orimasu, “we are humbly receiving everyone’s refraining.” Peak politeness, zero wiggle room.
Nenrei kakunin no botan o onegaishimasu.
Buy a beer at the konbini and the register asks you to confirm you’re an adult — nenrei kakunin = age check, and botan is the ticket machine’s button. Tap the big glowing はい on the screen; this one really is a hai.
Anki deck
Download the Keigo Ear deck — thirty-one cards, every one audio-first, and none of them a line you’ve drilled before: the canonical versions live in their home lessons and packs, so this deck is pure variation. Shuffle is the drill. Play it with your eyes somewhere else: hear the line, name the decision, say your two-word answer out loud, then check. When a wrapper stops registering as grammar and starts registering as upholstery, the skill has done its job.