July 22, 2010

White Woman : Japan Sex

Posted by gaijinass under Guest posts, Le Tigre, Sex in Japan, Shinjuku | Tags: host, Host Club, Japanese Host, Kabukichou, Laura Janjira, Le Tigre, Sex in Japan, Teach in Japan |
[20] Comments

White Woman : Japan Sex

By: Le Tiger

Sex is an amazing motivator.

There are many things that motivate me to lose weight. Three things in particular right now; One being the fact that I feel like a fat-ass compared to all the skinny/small Japanese people, ESPECIALLY the women. Two is a major one, kickboxing. I HAVE to lose weight for my competition coming up in September, about 7 kg / 15 pounds. And the third one….

I want to have hot sex. I told you, its an amazing motivator.

I want to lose weight, feel sexy, and feel comfortable being naked in front of someone. After my last fight (January 2010)I was at 65 kg / 143 pounds and feeling great about my win, SO great that I decided it was time to reward myself by binge eating piles of junk food everyday. Inevitably, I got depressed and homesick soon after and found I couldn’t STOP eating. I have been trying to diet ever since. I was my heaviest at 75 kg / 165 pounds, and have lost some weight in the last month or so, but I still have a way to go.

I think though, that most of you readers are not here to listen to my lamentations in regards to my attractive binge eating habits so I will just get on with it. About my sex…..

Shion

There were many firsts with Shion. First time I had sex in Japan, first Japanese guy I ever had sex with, first ‘Host‘ I had sex with, and first Love Hotel I ever used. To get the story set up, I want to explain what led me to find and sleep with a guy like Shion. I had just moved to Tokyo after quitting my shitty job at an Eikaiwa down in Okazaki. I guess, the job itself wasn’t that shitty, just a bunch of crappy circumstances. The most immediate disappointment was just my initial impressions about Japan. I have wanted to come to Japan ever since I was 12 years old, and was so excited when I actually got a job and plane ticket to actually fly over here. But that all faded fast after being placed in Okazaki, a very small, boring city. I suppose Okazaki is a nice enough place, but I came here looking for my fantasy, not for real life! Come on Japan, Work with me!

There were many other things that went on in those first two months, but that’s another blog. I finally had to quit that job and move to Tokyo. Also around this time, I was getting out of a relationship with a guy from back home. There were feelings of depression, loneliness, anger, and of course a lot of horny hot energy which for the most part, had no good place to go. (This would be because I went for having sex-sexy-sex-sex ALL THE DAMN TIME to not having any, at all, for months.)

The first job I found in Tokyo was at a ‘foreign ladies’ bar in Tokyo. This is where I met my awesome friend, Hannah, who is a singer from LA. She had also moved to Tokyo recently, so we were both ready to party it up. This is where Shion came into the picture. Hannah and I had started off going to normal bars and clubs, which were fun. But then we discovered ‘Host’ bars. For those of you who don’t know, a Host bar is like a Hostess bar; where young, pretty girls are paid to sit, talk, and drink with men; but it’s the other way around; young, attractive men are paid to talk, flirt, and drink with women. We visited quite a few bars over a couple of weeks, having fun getting all this attention from guys. We ended up finding a favorite bar (in the middle of Kabuki-chou, a very classy area.) which is where Shion had worked. We invited him and some of the other guys out for more drinking after they finished work. We ended up going to a karaoke bar and Shion and I hit it off. He was your typical Host; anime-styled hair, fashionable (yet ridiculous clothes, good looking, skinny. But he had half-sleeve tattoos on both of his arms, and I’ve always had a thing for tattoos. After hanging out a few times, it was set up that Shion and I would end the night in a Love Hotel. (By the way, he didn’t speak English, and my Japanese was still awful at the time, so that’s why it was set up with one of the other guys who spoke English, and of course, Hannah.)
So we were off! We checked into a hotel nearby, went up to the room…which was everything you could expect from a Love Hotel; blacklights mixed with soft lighting, music playing in the background, and a drawer full of condoms. So we started undressing each other, I had a condom with me, so I gave it to him, he put it on and we started. Then, about 2 minutes into it he stopped and said, ‘Too big’ while making a frowny face and motioning at the condom. I said, ‘Ooooh, whoops!’ Then he asked, ‘American?’ I nodded and we both laughed a bit while he threw the condom away. Now, just to be clear, he wasn’t THAT small, he was normal in length but I guess he had just slightly less girth than the average American guy. At any rate, he pulled out a condom from the drawer and we went along our way, and surprisingly he seemed completely unphased by what had just happened.

Then there was the time we got it on in my guesthouse. This would have been the second time we had sex. Neither one of us had money for a hotel, so I suggested my guesthouse in Ginza, as he told me through translation of his friend, that he shared a room. So we were off to my guesthouse, THIS time with Japanese condoms in hand. My room was really small, about 10 ft by 8 ft, and I had a futon on the floor with some clothes and stuff next to it. We started getting it on, as people do, and about halfway through, there was a strange noise coming from nearby. We both noticed it, looked around briefly, and then kept going. We finished, but the noise had not stopped. I sifted through the items by my futon, the pile of junk, and oh yes, of course, somehow my vibrator had switched on. I pulled it out to turned it off, and out of nowhere, this cartoon character of a man, someone that hadn’t spoken 3 words to me in English, the guy that couldn’t order fries with his Big Mac if his life depended on it, Shion yelled, ‘Laura!…. Masturbation!!’

AWESOME.
Guest house with walls of cardboard and the monolingual gent in bed with me manages to yell my name at the top of his lungs and follow that up with “Masturbation??” Somethings, truly are priceless.

Guys in Japan

In America, I usually had a boyfriend or a special friend, and often with good, sometimes great chemistry. In Japan….one year and 5 months later, I am still waiting. I believe there are a few reasons for this.
First being the language barrier. It’s true, I have been in Japan over a year, but the first year I was here was hell for me and I didn’t really care about learning Japanese as much as I cared about having someplace to live, some food to eat, and NOT getting groped or forced to give BJs (As explained in my last post.)So my Japanese level is not where I want it to be. But I am starting to change that this year.
Also, I think my self-image, at least lately, has affected my sex life. Obviously, if I don’t feel sexy or attractive, guys are not going to find me those things either. And I can honestly say I haven’t felt very attractive for the last 4 months or so. But that will change soon too, as I plan on getting my ass in top shape this summer.
As for guys in Japan….well, this may be a bit unfair, but I have narrowed it down into 6 categories…
1) Young, Japanese guys who aren’t interested at all in foreign girls.
2) Young, Japanese guys who are interested, but usually just for a one-night stand.
3) Old, Japanese guys who are ewww.

4) Foreign guys who are only interested in Japanese girls.
5) Foreign guys who are interested, but who want just a fling, and are usually loud, drunk, and on vacation or something.
And….

6) Married or taken guys.
I guess there is a seventh category…Japanese and foreign guys who are interested in foreign girls and are looking for more than one night stands, but this group is pretty illusive.

I guess I’ll just have to be patient. Hopefully I can have hot sex before the one year mark, but considering that’s about 2 weeks away….it might be cutting it close.

Footnote: Hot sex pre-one year mark NOT ATTAINED. How do you spell F-A-I-L-?

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July 1, 2010

She Works Hard for the Money

Posted by gaijinass under Gaijin, Guest posts, Host/Hostess, Le Tigre, Sex in Japan, Shinjuku | Tags: Gaijin Hostess, Hannah Hypnotic, Hostess club, Japan Le tigre, Japan sex clubs, Kabukichou, Teach in Japan, Tokyo Life, Tokyo strange |
[37] Comments

LeTigre

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“She Works Hard for the Money”

Guest post by “Le Tigre”

Because the fact of the matter is, I didn’t just get off the fuckin’ boat.

I have been an English teacher at an Eikaiwa (english conversation school…vomit).
I have been a bartender at a foreign ‘ladies’ bar.
I have been a hostess at clubs ranging from ‘nice,’ to places were I felt like I was actually hired to be a hooker.
I am a professional kickboxer, seriously.
I am an ALT (Assistant Language Teacher) at a public elementary school.

I have lived in….
Okazaki, Aichi for 2 months
Ginza, Tokyo for 3 months
Fuda, Chofu for 2 months (living with my coach’s friend)
Ikebukuro, Tokyo for 1 month (living with Hannah Hypnotic)
Asagaya, Tokyo for 4 months
Saginomiya, Tokyo for 3 months
and currently Shin-Nakano, Tokyo for 2 months…so far.

With men…
I have lost a boyfriend from back home after 1.5 months of being in Japan, lets not talk about this.

I have slept with a host (These are Host types).
I have slept with a young, Japanese guy(19yo)…possibly taking his virginity.
I have had a pure sexual lust for a man over the last year. But it’s someone who I can never have, and have accepted that never going there with him is for the best.
I have been on a really awful date with a Japanese guy who got wasted after buying drinks he didn’t have money for and made me pay. Then, he followed that class act up by asking me the same stupid questions over and over and over in rapidly deteriorating slurred speech.

Let’s explore some of these experiences….

Hostess clubs.

August 2009 was when I first actually work in a real hostess club. I was introduced to the manager by a girl I had met a couple of times. This girl was from Spain, and a bit crazy. She had to have been at least 6′ tall, had dyed her hair that bright, fake looking red color, had color contacts, a lip ring and always wore corsets, thigh-highs, and knee-high boots. She was always nice to me, but I could never stand to talk to her for long periods of time, as our conversations always would go something like this…

Me ‘Hey, how’s it going?’

Her ‘ OH MY GOD! I need to get fucked!!! I am supposed to meet this one guy after work, but I don’t know if he’s going to show up…he’s kind of like an ikemen, oh my god he’s so fucking hot! I met him one night at…blah, blah, blah.’ (this sometimes continued on for a lengthy period of time.)

Me ‘Oh, sounds fun. How’s school?’

Her ‘What? Oh, it’s ok…OH MY FUCKING GOD!! You won’t believe this guy that I fucked 2 days ago…blah, blah, blah.’

Anyhow, she worked at a hostess club in Ikebukuro owned by some Nigerians. I know, a hostess club in Ikebukuro owned by some Nigerians, the ultimate location to climb that corporate ladder and secure a bright future, right?

I was living in Ikebukuro at the time and was completely fucked for money as I hadn’t had a job in 2-3 months, so I gave it a try.

My first day…
The owners were seemingly nice, and the other girls were being friendly. Okay, so far so good.
One thing I noticed right away was the stripper pole in the middle of the room and the black lights that lit the room. I soon found out that yes, there was a stripper, but no we (the hostesses) were not expected to take our clothes off. Phew.
There was one stripper a night, who usually performed once or twice depending on how busy it was. All together there were 3 strippers, all Japanese girls. There were about 8-10 hostesses that were all foreigners. It was mostly Philippino women, with the whacky Spanish girl, a French girl, a Brazilian woman….and me. The club had a ‘no touching’ policy, but it was considered a cheap, lower-class club, so many of the customers would ignore that policy and try to grab the girls. I saw most of the girls get grabbed/groped quite a bit. But I was pretty good at dodging and blocking their quick hands while laughing it off. Plus, I usually made it a point to mention to every customer that I was a professional kickboxer. Sometimes it seemed to ward off potential attacks. Cop a feel, lose some teeth. It was an unspoken agreement between the customers and I.

The paycheck was once every 2 weeks. However, your first month there you had to wait until your 4th week to get paid. So I had made it 3.5 weeks, we were getting paid in literally 3 or 4 days…when the club got closed down. They had apparently not paid the rent in quite some time. There was a big fiasco regarding whether they were going to pay us or not.
One of the owners knew how broke I was and suggested that I work for his friend’s club in Shinjuku. They paid ¥12,000/night ($120) in cash. Not having the option of getting a better job and having to wait another month to get paid, I decided to check it out.

This is worst place I have ever worked….

There was still no concrete answer on whether I was going to get the ¥50,000 ($500) they owed me, so I went to work at the other club. (I never did get that money.)
This place was in the middle of Kabuki Chou, an area known for its high population of Yakuza and sex clubs, not so much for its pristine parks and Virgins. It was on level B1 of some random building. The place was real small, probably only able to hold about 10-15 customers at a time. It was even darker, with even more black lights than the last club. There were 2-3 tv’s posted on the walls, all usually playing a dvd of those 90s style, rap/porn videos. There were about 6 girls, the main girl was from Ethiopia, a French girl who was black, the old Brazilian woman from the last club, and a couple other older, less attractive women that I can’t remember. Helluva line up.
I worked there for 3 days.

Day 1
I’m told to dress sexy. I’m the only young, white girl there, and get requested right off the bat. The customer a young’er’ Indian guy who was visiting Tokyo. He orders some drinks for us and we start talking. After a few minutes he asked me how much the handjob was going to cost.

…come again….?

I didn’t say anything for a moment as I tried getting my thoughts together. I finally managed to blurt out that it was my first day and I wasn’t aware this was part of my job description. Thankfully, he was a descent guy and apologized for making me uncomfortable and said that the owner had told him I would give him this ‘service.’
I apologized and asked if he wanted to speak to another girl. So I called over the Ethiopian girl, told her the situation, and she confirmed that no, we don’t ‘usually’ do that.
He left.
After that, I sat on the couch thinking about the situation I was in. I thought about getting up and leaving right then. Then I realized….I don’t even have enough money for the train ticket home. So I stayed.
The rest of the night was slow and uneventful. Then, I got paid.

Day 2

I went back, only thinking about the money at the end of the night. The second night started off pretty normal. Then I was sat a table with a Japanese man and the Ethiopian girl. He bought us drinks, and apparently that means that he could now grope us. First he turned to me and asked in that sickening, drunk Japanese way,

‘Can-Iee-toucha-u?’

I smiled, shrunk back and politely explained I don’t feel comfortable with that. The Ethiopian girl injected her self into things at this point and told him that he could touch her. Then I witnessed something that will probably be burned into my memory for a long time…He aggressively and hurriedly slid his hand right down the top of her dress. He rubbed her breasts in big, circular motions while she just sat there smiling and drinking. I was just sitting there watching, with a feeling of not really being there at all. It seemed like forever, but he finally left.

I was still living with my friend Hannah at the time and had mentioned the name of the club to her, it had no meaning to her at first. But I was sitting on the couch later that night, waiting and hoping there would be no more customers, when I got a text message from her. It urgently read something like, ”GET OUT of there! I told the name of the bar to my friend, and she used to work there and said it’s the place where customers get mad if you don’t let them touch you and will hit you!”

I sighed heavily and thought to myself, ‘This can’t be happening.’

And yet, I decided to stay. I had already made it through most of the night and I knew there would be money soon. However, since this night had been ‘slow’ they only paid us half, and said the rest would come tomorrow.
Which leads me to my last day….

Day 3

By this time I knew I would not be continuing this job much longer. I know, who would have guessed it? I knew that it would only be a matter of time before I got a customer who wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer. And in this situation I was scared to think of what would happen.
Two things happened during this night that were the final deal breakers. First, we had a Japanese man come in. He sat with the Ethiopian and the Brazilian. I didn’t have a customer so I was able to witness them being heavily groped as the drinks kept flowing. He became really drunk and for god only knows why, the Ethiopian chick started rubbing in between his legs. He got excited and of course, in clear sight for me, he wipped out his cock. It wasn’t like he pulled it out a little, he fully unzipped and slightly pulled down his pants and presented his already hard cock….laughing and trying to get them to touch it more. I then drifted back to that not really being there feeling. I was at that moment being traumatized and I KNEW it. A bizarre and sickening feeling. God knows when the Ethiopian girl or the burnt out Brazilian woman first felt this way.

Finally they got his pants on and he left.

I had a customer that night, but he was an American on a business trip and just wanted to speak English to someone. I was not really sure how true that was, but thankfully he never tried anything funny.
Next, another Japanese man came in. He got the Ethiopian girl and now the French girl. Again, the drinks were flowing, the groping was hardcore, and he was getting wasted out of his mind, he was having trouble getting the rim of the glass to his mouth. This time, the Ethiopian girl took advantage of the situation, grabbing his wallet out of his pants and ‘buying’ them more bottles of wine. He ran out of money and the owner and the girls got him to go to his ATM to get more money. Not sure what happened when they were out, but when they all came back something had made the guy mad, and they had a conversation in the front hallway for 20 minutes. I didn’t understand what was being said, as it was all in Japanese. But apparently they were trying to make him happy.

Then…
I happened to look over…
To my left was a single stall bathroom. The door was open, I could see the owner and the customer standing in the bathroom together, the customer’s back was facing me. I wasn’t sure why they were in the bathroom together for a while…until I saw the Ethiopian girl stand up in front of him. She was facing me and I saw her wipe her mouth off with the back of her hand, a neutral, bored look on her face, nothing at all in her eyes.

Holy shit…is that what I think…did that just happen?

At this point I felt sick to my stomach and a bit light headed. The Japanese customer was now happy as ever and he left all smiles.
The owner walked past me, and must have noticed that I was sitting stiffly on the couch looking pale, and asked if I was okay while he chuckled a bit. I forced a smile and said I was fine.
Soon after, I made my way into the bathroom, everything moved in semi slow motion as I took in the scene, the moist and humid smell of piss and bodies, the alcohol, lingering vomit and I turned to look in the mirror, my reflection somebody else, someone I didn’t know. When I looked down to turn on the water in order to wash my hands my whole body froze in place. There was cum shot across the front edge of the sink. I blinked a few times, turned around and walked back to my sofa. I got the rest of my money that night and never went back.

The last hostess club I worked at.

After the place in Kabuki-cho I had already started working as an ALT part-time. So I was able to eventually move back into a private apartment in Asagaya. However, money was still really tight since it was just a part-time job. So I decided to give hostessing one last chance, as I knew that if you got into a nice, expensive club the circumstances were much better. So I got a job at a club in Ginza, and it was nice. The customers were mostly businessmen and the ‘no touching’ policy was actually followed for the most part.
There isn’t anything too exciting about this club, so I’ll keep it short.
This was the last club I worked at for a few reasons..
First, I realized I was walking around absolutely hating and despising any Japanese man who I saw, especially salarymen. Working in those conditions and seeing what I was seeing, even at the more upscale clubs, I couldn’t help this.
Second, I obviously don’t enjoy being talked down to like I’m some idiot and sex-object by a complete asshole, egocentric men.
Third, and the reason I got fired from this last place, I just can’t pretend that I am in love with, or want to have sex with these men. Which, even though you aren’t expected to have sex, is what this kind of job is really all about.
The illusion that young, beautiful women want old, ugly men.

I am now a full-time English teacher and I am training for a kickboxing fight in September. And even though I have a hard time with certain teachers I work with, or troubling classes, after writing this and remembering my experiences, I realize the job I have now is the-fucking-shit compared to being a hostess.

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November 25, 2009

Japanese Voodoo, Beer, Yakuza and Me

Posted by gaijinass under Culture, Life, Shinjuku | Tags: Asahi Beer, Harvest Festival, Kabukichou, Kirin Beer, Mendoksai, Shinjuku, Yakitori, Yakuza |
[4] Comments

It was not part of the plan…we did not follow the script in fact we had to improvise but in the end I think we came up with some pretty impressive scenes all things considered.

After a fairly tolerable Italian dinner at a place neither of us had ever been too my friend and I headed out of Isetan Kaikan in Shinjuku and by chance I caught a glimpse of row after row of street vendor tents lining the side-walk just outside Kabukichou.

Intrigued, off we went.

The line of vendors for food, beer and all sorts of “lucky” talismans led us down a crowded path into a park next door to Kabukichou and then into a Shrine type area. Many people were lined up to go into the shrine and get their worship on and generally there were bodies everywhere. It was totally packed.

We passed on the Shrine and moved into the maze of tents and people.

The charms and baskets of leaves with little plastic golden owls peering out at you surrounded by husks of wheat and fat little smiling geisha looking dolls all of them further surrounded by green leaves and glitter and cards with Japanese writing were visually very intriguing. I had to ask one of the older vendors what all this was about and simply put he replied beaming, 2 front teeth missing, his face a red glow from the sake he and his co-workers were happily consuming in copious amounts, “LUCKY!” he says, “BIG LUCKY!”

Ahhh…lucky…well thats pretty simple. I paid 3,000 yen and purchased myself a lucky talisman. A free service they preformed was to put a 5 yen coin inside a small envelope and add some additional Kanji seals to the handle of the voodoo stick that is the same size as a ping-pong racket but with a whole collection of charms and gear on the flat face. The additional seal apparently as much as ENSURES my financial success this season. I hope so, it cost 30 bucks.

As we continued on through the huge maze of bodies and beer and steaming grilled fish and meat and soups and more beer and more lucky talisman vendors it became clear that some people were really getting into the spirit and taking things to the next level.

Mine cost 3000 and is the size of a ping-pong paddle, this fellas is the size of a battle-axe and god only knows how much he dropped on it. Have fun on the train with that guy.

It’s clear though that this was a really happening event. Lots of smiles and people talking to people they didnt even know. It was something I dont often get to see in Tokyo, a city well known for cold shoulders and stoic masks accompanied by stone silence.

We were just kind of hanging around a corner of the festival near a Yakitori tent and I was having a beer and we were commenting on how cool and fresh all this was when apparently, the girl working seating who had thought we were in line for a spot tapped me on the shoulder and motioned for us to pop a squat at the grill counter. Fumi (my friend) and I exchanged looks and then sat down. grilled fish, veggies and some other goodies I honestly could not identify were ordered and we found out that all the staff including our grill master “Hiro” were all college kids working this part time gig. All of them slamming beers and clearly having a good time.

The atmosphere at this sort of event is really enjoyable.

Hmmm….Beer was consumed.

Hey! These arent all mine….ok…they are. But EVERYONE was drinking like their livers would grow back and everyone was fairly well lit.

Beer….ummmmmm

At one point, for some reason or another Fumi struck up a conversation with the couple sitting next to us.

They had met 2 years ago, at the very same festival and had since married.

The man was 53 and the woman 31…I can say only two words: well done.

He was so insanely drunk that he was trying to convince me to trade Fumi for his wife but “only for tonigt so its ok!” and it took me about 10 minutes to realize that he was, in fact, serious. How little does he know about Fumi, she could likely kill him with her bare hands.

But they were very fun to talk to. His wife was very vocal and enjoyed slapping him directly in his nose repeatedly which I found amusing and finally they were just buying us drinks (that I really didnt need) and it was a good time.

I was then subsequently befriended by these Yakuza guys that were both dining, drinking and harassing young women right behind us. If you dont believe me contact DEAN, he can attest to it: Yakuza guys like me. I dont know why and whats more I have yet to meet a Yazzie I didnt like. Anyway it took some doing but I convinced this guy to put his shades on. Then his ex-girlfriend or one of his hookers or his wife, who knows, came stumbling up to us wearing skin tight stone washed jeans with a tear in the knee and another right below the left butt cheek, a pink halter top and a black leather jacket, her hair a style so complex I almost got a headache, with half of it up in the air the other half in corn rows on the side of her head and finally she was holding a bottle of Gilbys vodka in one hand and red bull in the other, both open. Both half empty.

She then proceeded to hand me the vodka and the red bull and ridiculously attack this guy. It was comical. He simply moved around the stool he and his buddy had been using as a table and she did not have the sober coordination left to catch him. Then he looks at me and smiles and says in English “Drunk Japanese Bitch!” Then in Japanese “Too much trouble.” and this, he and his friend and the drunk old man with the wife and the drunk girl all thought was hilarious and began howling with laughter. Then I was forced by said drunk girl to help her pour the remainder of the vodka, like quarter of a bottle into the red bull that was 75% gone and we slammed that in turn. Horrid.

All in all a very interesting evening.

Pretty sure the old timer that sold me this thing did not expect it to be so employed. Damn that girl with her vodka!

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September 1, 2009

Me and Lee Xiao Mu

Posted by gaijinass under Culture, Shinjuku | Tags: Creative Writing, Ghost Writing, Kabukichou, Lee Xiao Mu, Yeeshan Yang |
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Lee Xiao Mu

Yeeshan Yangs book

In 2005 by what route I honestly cannot recall I was put in contact with Yeeshan Yang. So much of how this began I cannot remember but with certainty I can say that Ms. Yang was a proficient English and Japanese speaker, a talented writer who would later publish the well received piece of investigative journalism “Whisper’s and Moan’s'” and in fact a very talented kisser and overall “make out” artist. An anthropology student and world traveler, Ms. Yang was several years my senior and had already ventured at least in some way into writing and although the details of how or why elude me at this time , she referred me to a publisher that had recently encountered a rather singular obstacle in converting a particular book from Japanese into English.

The name of the book was “A guide to a sleepless town” and the singular obstacle was in fact it’s author, Mr. Lee Xiao Mu.

Mr. Lee was born in 1960 in China and through a serious of misadventures (misinformation?) he arrived in Tokyo with his then Chinese wife, his first of 6 last time I checked (but he married the 5th one twice so does that count?), and quickly found himself in Kabukichou, the infamous red light district of Japan.

Lee arrived in Kabukichou at the height of Japans economic “bubble” and he quickly reaped the rewards of being a hungry, charismatic and cunning young man bent on fortune and fame. According to Japanese friends I have talked to that were up and coming young company workers at that time, one would think the streets were paved with gold and money was being given out for free in large wicker baskets. The tales about the “bubble” are grandiose and listening to these men talk about it I can only feel a certain melancholic and sad resemblance to a High school football star who is now 46, a used car sales man and loves nothing more than telling anyone who will listen about the time his team “Won State” back in the Glory days.

Lee Xiao Mu took advantage of this apparently “magical era” and made money, made friends, made enemies and met many women….most of whom he slept with. Foray’s into the fashion industry, the sex industry, movies and Television, writing and many other things have since culminated in a genuine public personality that is fully equipped with a website, staff and groupies.

In 2005 an effort was being made to translate his book “A guide to a sleepless town” into English for publishing both in Japan and abroad. Initially a french woman whose name I can’t recall was contracted to meet with Mr. Lee and conduct a series of interviews as the the publishers of the English book required more detailed accounts of things and in the end, as I would find out, completely original content not found in the Japanese edition.

Everyone being whom everyone was things did not go as planned. The French woman fell in love/lust with Mr.Lee and as far as I could tell they slept together. Thing’s soured quickly as her obsession with Mr.Lee increased. Sensing genuine trouble with his Wife and a lack of general well being on the horizon, Lee Xiao Mu contacted the publisher and insisted that someone else be found to replace her.

At the time, my Japanese level was pathetic at best and sauntering into McDonalds to order a coffee was a rather big deal for me so I begged bargained with and threatened a friend of mine named Ayu (a talented photographer and artist, also a good kisser.) untill she agreed to come with me as my interpretter.

We met Mr.Lee at a coffee shop in Kabukichou near the big roman-esque McDonalds there and enjoyed several cups of decent coffee while I fumbled around like a blind man on a jungle gym in my first ever face to face interview. In talking to Mr.Lee I found him very agreeable and easy to speak with despite the language barrier. I also noticed that he was very skilled at non-verbal communication and body language which he displayed well while he constantly hit on my translator.

The comment that most intrigued me about that whole evening was when he finally told me “Just write whatever you want as long as it makes me seem interesting. Really anything is ok. Just make me more interesting, its simple.”

We parted ways after his wife arrived, a 21 (I think) year old Chinese woman who was his 5th wife that he would later divorce and then marry again. She was also charming in a very young way and told me I looked like David Beckham but more handsome.

I look nothing like David Beckham. More handsome however, there is little doubt. ” Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

I began organizing notes and and thinking about things that night at home and then the next day I began writing. Over the course of two weeks I submitted multiple copies of various chapters to several different editors and the majority of the feed back was less than thrilling. The person who consistently gave me positive support and good advice was Yeeshan Yang and I still appreciate that to this day. She has a very hip yet straight forward way about her writing sensibilities which I find attractive. And she is a good kisser.

After several emails and various revisions it was made clear that I needed to generate several original chapters of content about “Lee Xiao Mu…Today!” and as ridiculous as I found this I jumped at the oppurtunity to write something original that would be in a book…any book.

I contacted Mr.Lee again and probed him for details. I begged him to give me something juicy, something interesting and thrilling that I could take and then adapt to my awaiting pages. This time he told me two things.

First he said “You know I never wrote a word. I just talk into a tape recorder and get one of the women who love me to write it all in Japanese.” I found this confession very random indeed and tried to steer away from this now useless line of conversation and was pushing for something involving the Yakuza if possible or better still something about the terrifying and infamous Chinese gangsters from the Fukien Province who had been arriving in Tokyo as of late. Mr. Lee’s reply was less than stellar.

“Look, I write a colenm for “NewsWeek “. Im trying to get a new book published in China. I have kids and need alot of money every month. I don’t have the time for consorting with gangsters and thugs. Just make something up, I will say its all true. ”

Call me naive but this was not what I had been looking for. I trudged forward though dashing this with that and finally coming up with something that I could submit as original. In the end I have no idea if my content was ever used for anything although I received some form of payment. I learned that Ghost writing by and large is not a terribly gratifying field to be in. It makes more sense to create something original and unique to ones self and of course this has its on risks and challenges. It isn’t easy to put your work forward for all to see and critique or even totally blast with negative criticisms but it is a necessary step in the Creative writing, or any writing process.

If my time with Lee Xiao Mu and Yeeshan Yang left me with anything it is that in Tokyo, very little is impossible and anyone can climb the latter. Perhaps that’s why I am still here.

More information about

Yeeshan Yang and Lee Xiao Mu on their respective websites.

Lee Xiao Mu

Yeeshan Yang

UPDATE—–2012/09/14—–Video with Lee

Gaijinass