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It started, as all good romances do, with a flake.
I had been messaging Shiho for a few months now. Originally I opened and walked with her in Shinjuku as she was on the way to a tanning salon. She was tall, slender, with tan skin and a short blonde bob cut. We gabbed it up about psytrance, rave culture, and the general decline of unique Japanese style on our short walk to her salon.
We weren’t able to match up schedules during my final few days in Japan the last time, so I told her I’d be back in Japan when the sakura bloomed.
“桜が咲いてたら、俺が戻って来る”
When the sakura bloom, I’ll be back
Like Gandalf in The Two Towers… “Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east.”
Or… something.
Anyway, she remembered this, and pinged me periodically with the schedule of sakura and told me it was coming early so she wasn’t sure I’d make it in time.
It was clear she had remembered, and out of the many girls I told she was certainly the one with the most follow-up, despite her gyaru appearance and seemingly charai lifestyle.
Two days ago, we set a time to meet. The day came around and after wandering around Gostar De Fuga and some silver shops getting some fly threads and accessories, I messaged her about an hour before the date.
“I’m not quite finished,” she said.
I carried on with my day, and wasn’t super invested in whether she showed up or not, although of course I preferred she did.
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I dropped off my bags and headed out to the streets wander around a bit and wait for her message.
On my way down Dogenzaka towards the notorious Shibuya scramble crossing, I noticed a sexual office-lady looking type with some noticeable curves tucked into her pressed white shirt and black pencil skirt. She didn’t look like a typical OL in the least, there was something decidedly erotic about her, and I wondered if I was wrong about her being an office lady or what.
As I quickened her pace, I noticed another contender to my left. Long brown, curled hair down to her waist, fuzzy pink jacket, brown heels, and a non trivial handful of booty packed into her jeans.
My kryptonite.
I walked, somewhat sandwiched slightly behind and between the two ladies, wavering on who I was going to choose for a few seconds. They both looked quite good, to be honest.
In the end, I went with the pink one.
I opened her up with something rather banal in English, and she gave me quite the stink face. I giggled at her face and continued to engage. She opened up after a few seconds, and after we crossed the street, I slowed my pace and we came to a stand still outside the JR station.
“I just finished an interview with H&M,” she said.
After making a brief connection, perhaps no more than 3 minutes of small talk, I proposed we get a drink together.
“Where?” she says.
And it was on. We walked over to HUB, and I figured at some point Shiho would hit up and I might have to leave the girl I was with.
We were discussing all sorts of random topics, from hip hop to relationships, her life and mine. It came out that she didn’t actually interview at H&M, but at a kyabakura. Due to her family situation, she needs money to pay for fashion school to achieve her dream of becoming a fashion designer and moving to New York. She’s aiming to work three jobs as she attends school, which to me sounds suicidal but I guess as long as she’s pursuing her dreams…
At some point, the lone (and pretty cute, I might add) white girl next to us gets approached by a slick-haired North African looking fellow in a suit. He offers to buy her a drink. She accepts. He chats briefly with her before going back to his seat at the next table.
I get around to chatting with her (Texan, interested in Japan and curious about the bartender) and before long we’re talking to all manner of people around us, including the three computer science students behind us (only one of whom is drinking, egged on to down three Dynamite Kids, the most alcoholic drink in the bar at 57%, and in stark contrast to the pencil-necked soushoku-kei boys he was with). Moroccan-looking dude claims he is French and a professor. He offers to buy me and my date a drink for some reason. Perhaps the Long Island Ice Teas are starting to add up for him and translating into general friendliness.
He tells us how his girlfriend broke up with him yesterday. At first we (myself, my date, and the Texan girl) are a bit suspicious, but it seems his generosity is genuine, as he doesn’t overstep any boundaries or become overly pushy or aggressive for anything.
I’ve completely forgotten Shiho and her lack of message.
Regardless, I’m eyeing the clock, as it’s now 9:30pm, and I have to host a webinar for my video course, Social Metamorphosis, in 30 minutes.
This is going to get odd.
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“Let’s go to the next place” I say. “Grab your bag.”
We wave goodbye to our new friends and roll out.
I’m thinking about how to do this. Fuck it, I’ll just bring her along. Maybe she can say something to my clients on the webinar or help in some way.
“Look, I have a business call from 10-11pm. But it’s alright because my friends’ girlfriend is at his house and you can hang out with them. They’re cool, she’s Japanese and he’s American.”
She looks a bit confused but still down to come along.
We sit down at my friend’s apartment, and I setup everything for the video call. After some technical difficulties I’ve got the call up and running and field a bunch of questions from guys around the country with varying degrees of experience and sticking points. We cover all aspects of game, from how to escalate on girls, how to keep them around as regulars or balance multiple girlfriends, how to approach when you’re walking in different directions, and everything in between.
The whole time, my American friend tries to help me out by keeping my chick somewhat entertained with various books and art as his own girlfriend sleeps, exhausted from her night job.
At precisely 11pm, pink girl (we’ll call her Ruri) points at her phone, indicating it’s time for me to finish my webinar as I promised. I field two more questions and call it a day.
I hang up, wondering if talking blatantly about pickup, game, escalation, and the like will ruin things with this girl.
I’ve told previous girlfriends exactly what I do and they’ve always been pretty cool with it, provided I’m not doing it in front of their eyes. And occasionally I’ve mentioned that I teach this to a girl or two that I’ve pulled. But never has it been so in their face and blatant, before I’d hooked up with them.
We hang out for a bit and chat with my buddy as his girlfriend continues to sleep.
Ruri says she has to go home.
“You waited a whole hour for me to finish my webinar and now that I’m done you suddenly need to go home? What do you have tomorrow? Work?”
“Nothing.”
“So then what? Just hang out with us until morning.”
“Where do you stay?”
“We can find somewhere to stay, there’s lots of places around here.” Being Dogenzaka, there are tons of love hotels nearby.
“Eeeeeeeh… I should go home. My mom’s waiting.”
“Just tell her you’re staying over at a girlfriends’.”
“I can’t lie to her!”
Alright.
We leave my friends’ place and walk towards the station. We stop and chat at a bench along the way and I try to understand her situation a bit more.
“My mom was really against my doing the kyabakura job. But I really need the money to pay for school.”
“Well, you’re an adult right. I’m sure your mom loves you but if you have dreams you need to be able to pursue those, and if you think the kyaba is the right way to earn money for that, then why not. Just be careful. You’re a sweet girl, and working a kyaba can change you, sometimes for the worse.”
“I know.”
She looks at her phone. “I’ve missed my last train.”
“It’s fine, we’ll find a place to stay.”
I grab her hand and walk with her into a love hotel with no resistance.
Inside, I start running a bath. I like the Japanese custom of showering and/or taking a bath before sex, especially in love hotels. It just seems so clean, and a cool way to have very sensual foreplay and get used to being naked with each other before going at it.
I kiss her a bit and pull her to come with me to the bath
やだ！
Hmm… Interesting.
I keep kissing her on the bed instead, and escalate things to sex. After round 1 we head to the bath, which is still quite warm.
In many ways things went quite normally. But the fact that this girl witnessed my entire webinar and still ended up coming to the hotel with me just illustrates how girls “get” it and what we do isn’t shameful, deceptive, or requiring camoflage in the slightest. Whenever I’ve brought what I do to the forefront, either casually or obviously, the girls have for the most part been completely accepting and understanding of the fact that (despite the casual negative image) nampa is just something guys do.
Never feel like you have to “hide” what you do. At least not from the girls themselves.
What a curious SNL.
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