Something's happening here

I certainly wouldn't call myself a linguist, but in addition to my passable English, I can converse in German and Spanish. And I can get around in Japanese. So, here we are. We've been soaking the many wonderful sights in Big Sur and have developed major appetites. There aren't a whole lot of places to stop and dine along Big Sur. You have your choice of really over priced high-end restaurants or tourist oriented burger huts. Niether of which interests us. Calif. highway #1 turns east from the coast at Morro Bay and heads towards San Louis Obispo and as we drive through SLO we find a sushi joint. It looks OK from the outside.OK we get out of the car and are greeted by two nice looking Oriental gentlemen. I give them an ohio guzamus, I speak it, I don't spell it, and we all bow in greeting. Very nice. We are seated and I order two Japanese beers, nichi Kurin beeru koo da sai. So far so good. We order food. Cyn gets a combo plate with tempura and sashimi. I get a katsu don. The guy gives me a blank look. Donburri is a Japanese rice bowl and a katsu donburri is with pork. When done right, it is wonderful. A breaded pork cutlet on top. Next grilled onions and usually some egg. The juices from the above all seep down to the rice on the bottom. Yum. Nobody, but nobody in Japan calls it a katsu donburri. It is a katsu don. Even on the menus. On thier menu however, it is listed as a donburri. OK, I try again. This time I say katsu donburri koo da sai. Hai hai, yes yes, katsu donburri. OK, what's up here. We drink some beer and wait for the food and I ask the waiter, doja deska binjo. Where is the restroom? I get this blank look. I repeat. Doja, where, deska, is, the ka attached to des makes it a question. Binjo? Still nothing. In English, I ask where is the restroom. This he understands. It isn't like the guy was born and raised in Cleveland, he has an authentic oriental accent. He is the younger of the two Oriental gentlemen who greeted us and as I go to the head to jettison some Kurin beer, he scurries off to the kitchen. When I come back, he is back. I ask "did somebody change the Japanese language on me? I didn't get the memo." He says hai, it now is called toire. As we leave, I stop and chat with the older gent. He asks how I come to speak Japanese. I guess most round eyes don't. I tell him I spent eight years in the Navy and I also worked, for a while, in Kobe at Kawasaki Steel. I ask where he is from and he tells me he's from Korea. Ah so. Japanese isn't either of our first tongues. That explains why the confusion.

Post script. Just for the halibut, I Googled Where is the toilet in Japanese. It came back on a site called japaneselifestyle.com, Toire wa doko desu ka?

Son of a bitch. They must have changed the language because when I searched binjo on the site, it came back, Your search - binjo - did not match any documents.

I wonder why I didn't get the memo?