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After a week spent in fangirl bliss, returning my boring, everyday job felt like being shot in the head and left to die. Instead of returning to mind-numbingly boring real life, I preferred to spend my time thinking about things like this:
Mmmm… So it’s back to real life for me, eh? I’ve been dreading this for a week and some. I don’t really want to go back to work. It’s just not what I want to do. I’ve been thinking of all of the different things that I want to do, ranging from paleontology and archaeology to translation to modeling. LOL, honestly, right now I want to be in the Prince of Tennis musicals. XDDDD Uhhhh, yeah. Well, I’m not asian, so big point against me, I can’t speak japanese, another big point, and I am a girl. Whoa, three points. Oh wait… I can’t dance, have little stamina, and have no coordination. Oh, and did I mention that it just wouldn’t work? XD I’m also taller than I think the entire cast. Maybe I could play Kabaji way down the road? :D;;;; Oh wait, I’m still a girl. XDD I’ll learn to dance, promise! And to sing! =D And sing a song incorporating the word “UUS” too many times. Or maybe a duet with Atobe! The “I’m so beautiful — UUS UUS!” duet! XD
I was pretty darn obsessed. I thought about Tenimyu all of the time. At work, at home, and in between. I made a ton of friends that were into it, and just generally lived in bliss. It was awesome, but life just seemed to be passing me by for a while.
On January 10th, I had my first episode of hey, you’re a foreigner, so I’m going to speak English to you! It went something like this:
Erin, Eda and I were standing around Ogikubo station saying our goodbyes, and a random Japanese guy in a suit was walking by. He turned toward us and said loudly, “it was nice to meet you!” We were the only people in close proximity to him, so he must have been talking to us…… even though we had no idea who he was. He didn’t say anything else or stop, just walked in through the ticket gates and onto the train.
It’s strange that it took almost four months for that to happen, because it became quite a common occurrence over the next nine years.
Now, in the middle of January, something strange happened. A random guy in a suit approached me, saying that he wanted to take me to a modeling agency. (This also happens a lot in Tokyo, but it was my first time). It’s not that I was particularly good-looking or skinny. I was actually overweight. It’s just that I was tall, and white. A white woman, the #1 modeling commodity in Japan, I kid you not. I was skeptical of this guy, worried that he was a bit sketchy, but finally agreed that if I could bring a friend, then okay, I would go.
I did end up signing up for the modeling agency, but afterwards, heard that it was a bit sketchy and never paid anyone on time from my coworkers, so I blocked their calls. The more interesting thing was this guy. He sent me a mail one day soon after this, and said, “I wanna show you around Tokyo. Do you want to hang out?” He had seemed nice, so I figured why not?
I wore a t-shirt and jeans (with a coat), and it seemed alright. The guy was friendly and spoke English, so I was beginning to think that I’d made a friend. We went to Tokyo dome, which is an amusement part in the middle of Tokyo. Unlike US amusement parks, it is free to go in, but you have to pay for each individual ride if you want to go on them. The first sign that we weren’t hanging out came when he wanted to go on the (dinky little) roller-coaster, and I agreed and pulled out my money to pay.
“No no no, I’ll pay.” I was confused… did this guy think that we were on a date? Sometimes my friends back in the US paid for each other when eating out, just because we were friends. And as for this day, nobody had EVER used the word date. In fact, he’d asked me to “hang out,” and I was definitely NOT interested in a date. Nope. Alright. I would pay for the next ride, then.
I did. I paid for the haunted house for both of us, to make it even. We took funny purikura (which I tore up later), and then went to eat after that.
We went to eat yakiniku, which is a sort of restaurant where the middle of the table is a flat grill. You order meat and vegetables and grill them yourselves, eating them with the dipping sauces (grilled enoki mushrooms are to die for! But I regress). After the waiter seated us and left with our drink order, he got up, and scooted in next to me.
“I just can’t wait any more!” he said, and went in for a kiss.
OH HELL NO. WTF! Since when had I ever given him the vibe that this was a date? Since when had I ever given him the idea that I was even remotely interested in his creepy, slimeball ass? Besides, I liked girls! I made a short work of dinner and when he texted me on the way home, I only told him that I didn’t want to see him again.
The guy (whose name I can’t even remember anymore, haha) could not understand why I didn’t want to see him, or why I had freaked out.
UMMMMM, because you invited me out on a date without even telling me?
I still don’t see that as normal, and I learned to be VERY clear when guys said that they wanted to hang out after that. It’s NOT a date. I am not ever going to date you. If I wanted a date, I would ask for it myself, in any case. I definitely don’t appreciate being taken on a date without knowing it.
Argh. Thinking back, it still makes me angry. Some people these days say that I seem hostile towards men, and it’s true. I’m sorry if I ever seem rude, but I just have to be very, very clear. Very, very very clear nowadays, to make sure that there are no more misunderstandings.
Not that my troubles with men in Japan ended there by any means! By the time that I left, I was being hit on almost every day, and I was so sick of it that it was almost a relief to get away from the constant pressure. At least in the US, nobody randomly comes up to me on the street and goes straight for my boobs.
Well, not so far, anyways.
Haha. See you all tomorrow for some more fun tales of my disastrous first year in Japan! *^^*