Love Me Do

Monday, June 10, 1991.
I'm a single guy living in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. Excluding two days in Tokyo when I first arrived in this country, and the past week (or so), I have had a girlfriend or a reasonable facsimile.  I did make-out with a woman a couple of days ago, but there was no horizontal mambo involved, so it doesn't count.
I'm visiting Sakuyama Chu Gakko (Sakuyama Junior High School) in the southern part of Ohtawara-shi. It's a very pleasant school. Decent enough kids - a great teacher - Sekiya-sensei (sensei = teacher) - who is a mom as well as an English teacher - and has the most patience I've ever seen in a person. I'll never be like that. Why can't I have patience like that now. I want it now! Now! Now!!
Classes are boring. Okay. Not really. I just have a lot of them. I visit four classes and thus, no time to relax.
One of the kids, Tomahiro, pulls out a Rhinoceros Beetle to show off to me. Now I may look like a man, smell like a man and drink like a man, but when it comes to insects, I am not a man.
He holds this enormous moving thing on the palm of his right hand and holds it close to me.
I take two steps back.
He moves two steps closer.
I take two steps back.
I've shown fear - it's the worst thing you can do as a teacher - especially a gaijin (foreigner) teacher to a bunch of 12, 13 and 14 year-olds.
All of a sudden, every single stinking boy in the class has reached into a pocket and pulled out their own rhino beetle and has stood up and marched right in front of me.
I scream like a little girl. No that's not true. That's insulting to little girls who have more courage than me. I scream like only I can and try to curl up in the fetal position as these boys thrust their horned beetle at me.
Yes... it sounds just as bad as I write it. I'm sure they were getting off on torturing me. Bastards.
They embarrass me in front of the very cute student teacher Miss Mori. She is so cute - 5-1", silky black hair chopped evenly at her jawline. Tasteful, but tight clothing. And single. Oh, so very single. Hey! Me, too!
But... I think I blew a sure thing by acting like a little gi-... I mean like a wimp in front of her.
Looks like it's going to be onani tonight. Visit HERE to get a better grip on what I mean.
As Sekiya-sensei pulls the students away from me and I get up, the school bell rings. I can't even look at Miss Mori as I head back to the teacher's lounge.
After getting home at 5:30, I eat and go out to teach a night school class.
I go home. I relax.
I get some sleep, punctuated by fearful attacks by exo-skelton creatures.

Somewhere within my head,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is crawling all over me by The Beatles, of course. Slow song for a SLOWDAY.

Heartbreak Hotel

Well, since my baby left me, I've found a new place to dwell. It's down the on the edge of some unknown street, called, some unknown street hotel - didn't you see that phrase just before that one?
Okay... after Ashley and I broke up, and whatever physical relationship we had decided to maintain - it all went out the door when she went back home to Augusta, Georgia - or wherever the heck she went. I was single, and being alone in Japan was definitely no fun. Matthew was well into a serious relationship with Takako Kurita - and for the first time since arriving in Japan - I felt completely alone.
I wanted to call up my friend Kristine and spend a week over at her place - but to be honest... despite whatever it is that I feel for her - love, lust, severe like - I actually like her too much to burden her... to make her a rebound. I didn't want her to be my reserve girl... It's true... I'd rather let that dubious standard fall to someone else - and then I can call Kristine!
So... to avoid further blindness through onani (see WOT), I decided to take a shot at the single's bar scene here in Ohtawara.
Now back in Toronto, I absolutely loathed the meat-markets, and never actually made eye contact with a woman - but after being in Japan for about 25 months, I have developed some self-confidence. I decided on the 4-Carat as my base of operations. It was my choice, not because it was the first place I was ever slapped by my sometimes-but-not-today-I'm-not-current-ex-girlfriend - nope, I'm not into nostalgia that much. Rather it's because it's a mere three-minute walk (seven-minute drunken stagger) from my apartment - plus, it's located on the restaurant/sleaze street of Ohtawara - whatever that street is called. Already, my prospects looked good.
Walking into the 4C, I said hello to me mate and bartender, Mark - a cool 20-year-old from New Zealand.
Now... the 4C was a veritable hotbed for beautiful, sexy Japanese women - partly because of Mark, but also because the place had a certain cache.
That evening at the 4C - not one of the 10 women at this cozy little place was paying me even the slightest regard. And then I remembered... sure I was well-dressed, had a modern hairstyle, good manners et al... but I also had a reputation.
Every single one of these women knew who I was, and knew that I had a girlfriend... and that no matter how many times I had broken up with Ashley, we always seemed to get back together.
Dammit! This time it was different, but no one wanted to take a chance. And what the heck happened to the Ohtawara grapevine - where everybody knows everything about me? Cripes! A guy goes back to Canada for a one-month vacation, and it's like I'm taken out of the loop!
Mark, listening to me rationalize out loud, told me that the women were afraid to talk to me because I was talking to myself. Oh.
Throwing caution to the wind, I turned to the woman beside me at the bar and attempted to start a conversation. She nodded her head a lot and said 'Hai (yes)' many times. But, when I asked her what her name was, she repeated the last few words I said, smiled and said "Eigo-ga, wakirimasen" (I don't understand English). In a wonderful twist... this woman had pulled the exact same non-understanding language trick I thought I had created... say yes a lot and repeat the last word hoping others will understand you are trying, and then the apology for not speaking the language! Turnabout is fair play.
To avoid that problem, I began to chat her up using the Japanese I had picked up - but, after 30 seconds, it was quite apparent I had not picked up that much of the Japanese language during these past 25 months... I swear, I'll start studying tomorrow!
I shook my head in defeat and muttered something about the impossibility of finding a female who wasn't in junior or senior high school who could speak English. That was when I was tapped on the shoulder by a pretty young woman who asked me in English if I would like to join her for a drink at her table.
We were just starting to get cozy when she happened to glance at her watch. She excitedly yelled something about having to get home before midnight because of her curfew.
All of the other women quickly looked at their watches, downed their drinks and ran for the exit, leaving many lonely men wondering who was going to win the next Sumo basho (tournament).

Somewhere looking for a tomato in a sausage factory,
Andrew Joseph
PS: A true story - single women, at least those living in Ohtawara, tend to live at home with their parents... and seem to have a curfew placed upon themselves by their controlling parents. Obviously with all of us single guys still stuck at the bar discussing sumo, there was no curfew for us. A sexist dichotomy.
PPS: And no... I never did spend any time with Kristine - probably a good thing - for her.    
PPPS: Today's title is by Elvis Presley - who despite singing about this Heartbreak hotel or being Lonely tonight... I'm betting  he could have slept with all of the women at the 4C by the time I got my first drink. Sometimes the service was slow because Mark was busy chatting up a local. ORDERUP.
PPPPS: In the photo up above... that's me with my friend Naoko on the right, and her friend, whose name I no longer recall on the left. It just looks like they are eating sausages...

Black Magic Woman

What was I doing the April 1992 weekend before I met Nobuko? I was seeing someone else! Sort of.
For some reason, Matthew's girlfriend (now wife) wanted me to meet a friend of hers who lived down in Tokyo.
Not having anything better to do than meet a cute Japanese woman, I gleefully accepted.
I woke up early on Saturday, rode my bike to the Nishinasuno train station (Nishinasuno-eki) 20 minutes away, caught the local rail up to the Shinkansen (bullet train) up at Nasu Shiobara-eki and then rode quickly and in luxury down to Tokyo.
About 40 minutes later at a speed of about 250 kilometres an hour, I arrive in Tokyo and was met by Takako.
Takako is a slim, very attractive young lady who had  enough grip on the English language who quickly captured the heart of my best bud in Japan, Matthew Hall. Takako was one smart cookie... she always looked at me like I was a complete idiot, but one she liked. I didn't know she like me enough to try and set me up with one of her friends - but obviously she did.
We went over to meet her friend - I'm unsure exactly what I was expecting, but the girl I met sure as heck wasn't it.
Shinobu (which she told me translated into Ninja girl) was an 18-year-old knock-out! Yeah, I was 28, but we were both adults - so I didn't mind the age difference... especially since you can see what she looks like in the photo above. Guys... would you be upset with a 10-year age difference if the girl looked like that? Sorry... woman.
Shinobu was 5-foot tall. Tiny. An infectious smile. And the biggest boobs I have ever seen on a Japanese woman in my nearly three years there.
I had always joked that my ideal woman was an Oriental redhead with big tits. As I understand it, the term Oriental is no longer considered politically correct - but I didn't care where a person was from... so, in this case, the term Oriental implies any woman with an epicanthic fold for eyes. You can see what that word means HERE.
So... with Shinobu, it was obvious she had two out of three of my ideals... but nothing a bottle of henna couldn't resolve.
What was the drawback? She wasn't necessarily the smartest person in the world, as she knew zero English... but that's cool, I pretty much knew zero Japanese... actually, according to Takako, her Japanese wasn't that great either - but neither is my English.. Regardless, there was a physical attraction for both of us. You can read HERE about why she might have been attracted to me... I said might have been.
Anyhow... Takako, Shinobu and I went for dinner, and then drinks. The bar was super crowded and it was tough to get the attention of the barkeeper -  so... if I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have believed it... Shinobu moved to the bar in her tight jeans and even tighter t-shirt, waited for someone to get off a stool at the bar, sat down and pointedly lifted her boobs up and placed her still shirt-covered mounds on top of the bar.
Flomph!
Instantly, there were three barkeeps (two men and one woman) fighting to serve the still jiggling Shinobu. We got our drinks, and I had another reason to be impressed by this diminutive woman. 
Shinobu and I had decided that we would visit Tokyo Disneyland the next day - and that Takako had some other stuff to do. Truthfully, I think she wanted to give us some alone time.
Unfortunately, that alone time did not extend into the night time, as Takako needed a place to crash for the evening (as did I). Shonobu and I lay together on her single bed, while Takako crashed on a few pillows on the floor below and beside us.
Shinobu continually pressed her backside up against my frontside at night, and even though she was afforded a few hours of sleep, I was not. I was up - in more ways than one - all night long.
That feeling didn't go away in the morning as Shinobu decided to sit on my lap while we ate cereal for breakfast. Somewhere at this point in time, Takako left us... so it was just the two of us - alone - in her apartment... but instead of doing the horizontal mambo, Shinobu wanted to go to Disneyland, and gave me a really nice kiss to make sure she knew we were together.
Still up - some eight hours now, she held my hand smiling at every person she met - saying hello to everyone - it was like she was showing ME off, like look... I have a gaijin (foreigner) boyfriend. Truthfully, I didn't mind. I was just wishing I could meet someone I knew to show off what was on the other end of my hand!
Disneyland... no matter what country you are in, is an expensive venture... but no cost was too great for this 36DD cutie... yes... that was her chest size. Oh... My... Buddha!
I was still up, as she kept backing in to me every five minutes or so, just to check if I was still liking her. She knew what I had going on, and she was determined to keep it going.
The day was a blur, as obviously I had a lack of blood flowing to my brain. Still, we went on rides (she tried to sit on my lap on Magic Mountain - as I grabbed a mountain or two of my own), we saw shows (she tried to sit on my lap while we were standing watching the Country Bear Jamboree, we ate junk food (here I let her sit on my lap, as we shared all the food I bought). But I wasn't complaining... except that it was difficult to walk. It was difficult to sit. It was difficult to concentrate on anything but the swaying of her sweater puppets, as she danced while pulling me this way and that to the next attraction.
Finished at Disneyland, went went to another restaurant, ate cuddled up beside each other, and then I walked her home. Hoping for a little (lotta) relief, she turned jumped up and grabbed me around the neck to help pull herself up around my waist with her legs. Long kiss over, she hopped off and said in a sing-song voice, 'bai-bai'. She opened the door to her place and walked inside, closing it behind her.
What the heck? Now what was I going to do?
Let's just say the next two hours it took to get home were very painful. Why?
Have you ever read the back of a VIAGARA package? Essentially it says that should you have an erection for over four hours (??!!) you should contact your doctor. If I had know that, I would have, but Viagara hadn't been invented yet!
When I got home it was 22 hours with company. The whole trip home I could smell her all over me. It was intoxicating. Have you ever ridden a bicycle with an erection? Let me tell you, it's not very comfortable.
All I knew was that when I got home, it was onani time (see HERE). I nearly hit myself in the head.

Somewhere, the player got played (and didn't mind one bit),
Andrew Joseph
PS: In the photo above, Shinobu poses with the author, who appears to have taken his shirt off revealing his hairy chest - or it's Br'er Bear. I still can't tell.
PPS: The next day I met Nobuko, and never saw or talked to Shinobu again. Shows you what I thought of Nobuko, eh? You can re-read that TALE. 
PPPS: Today's song/title is by Santana because of Shinobu's bewitching of me. For the weekend. CLOSEYOUREYESANDLISTEN.

Wot

Jodan? O-nani? Probably tonight.

Depending on one's point of view, I'm either a very funny guy or a complete a$$hole.

I'm going to tell you of a little trick I pulled on a fellow AET (Assistant English Teacher) that has me as both - and contrary to most movies and books, I do not get my comeuppance and thus do not learn a valuable lesson.

It was August 1991. I had renewed to stick around a second year on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme to be a junior high school AET in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. As well, I had been elected publisher of the Tochigi AET monthly newsletter. The fact that no one else wanted the job made me want it even more.

There in the Tatami Times, I first had my It's A Wonderful Rife articles published monthly. I was there 36 months, and I currently have about 170 blog entries. Obviously, most of what you are reading here has been created from notes and diaries, or gawd help us all, my memory.

This is from memory... but fret not... this one is indeed memorable and 100 per cent true.

As a renewer and publisher, and for some reason a well-liked person (who just wanted to be liked), I was part of the welcoming committee for the new JET people arriving in Japan to work in Tochigi-ken. Of the 20 or so new people coming in - I liked them all. Jimmy Jive was a favourite, but so too were new friends Letitia and Amanda - ooh, and Trish! Ashley and I had decided to stop being boyfriend/girlfriend, but since she did trust me, she felt it would be okay if she stopped by once a week for sex. Who was I to argue?  

Alan... Alan was from England. He was a pale fellow, short blond hair, slender, a couple of centimetres taller than myself - so a legitimate 183cm. He was intelligent. I know that because from the moment we met in Tokyo during orientation, I could tell he was hanging onto my every word, trying to soak up as much data as possible so that he could have a wonderful rife in Japan.

Oh, Alan. If you only knew then what you know now. Never start a land war in Asia. And that Andrew guy may be full of self-promoting confidence, but he don't know jack.

Pulling Alan aside one evening, I proceeded to explain to him that the Japanese people believe in honour quite strongly, and that extends into the way they speak. I said that the Japanese often add the word "O" (pronounced 'oh') in front of certain words to make it more honourable in sound and in meaning.

I told him about water or mizu... which when made more honourable, it became o-mizu. The same was true for things like hashi (chopsticks) and sumo (wrestling)... you can add the word "O" in front--o-hashi and o-zumo (it's actually written with a 'z' when you add the "o").

Alan nodded his head in amazement--amazement that he found someone so cool that could teach him such neat stuff.

I then explained that the word "what" or nani can also have an honourific added to it, because saying the word 'what' in Japanese can be considered quite harsh. (Alan is in RED, I'm in BLUE)

Me: So... what does nani become, Alan?

Alan: Onani.

Me: Absolutely correct, Alan. Say it again.

Alan: O-nani.

Me: Excellent. Once more with gusto!

Alan: Onani!!!!! he yelled in the hotel lobby. Japanese people stopped to stare for a moment, but quickly went about their own business.

Me: Great Alan! Now don't forget it!

Anyhow... after three days of fun in Tokyo - though I didn't meet a new sex partner like I had last year avec (with) Ashley - I went home to Ohtawara, and Alan went to his new place in some town that escapes me.

About a month later, Alan, myself and a few other AETs met up in the historic town of Nikko to go site-seeing. This time Alan gathered me aside to ask me a question. Supervisor is in Purple)

Me: Yeah, Alan... what can I do you for?

Alan: You know how you told me to add the word "o" before words to make them more honourific?

Me: Uh.... yeah? (Truthfully, I had forgotten about this).

Alan: Well... there seems to be something wrong.

Me: What do you mean?

Alan: Well, I've been adding the word 'O' to my words - you know so that I can show the Japanese that I respect them - by making words more honourable.

Me: Yeah, that's cool. So what's the problem?

Alan: It's with the word nani.

Me: What?

Alan: Yes. My supervisor would call to me: Alan-san. 

Alan: Onani? I'd answer.

Supervisor: No! NO! Alan-san!

Alan: Onani?

Supervisor: Dame dai-yo (No way, don't)!

Alan: Onani? 

Alan: There'd be more yelling, and I don't know what's going on.

I'll spare you how I let poor Alan in on my jodan (joke) on him. Okay, it was like this:
Me: Geezus, Alan. I was just pulling your leg! I never thought you or anyone else would actually listen to anything I said!

Alan: Was anything you said real?

Me: Actually, everything I told you was real.

Alan: Except....?

Me: Except the part about the word nani.

Alan: Oh, expletive.

Nani is the word for 'what', and "o" does indeed make words more honourific. However (I said this as I began backing slowly away from Alan), in this case, if you add the word "o" to "nani", you've created the Japanese word for masturbation - o-nani!

In English, Alan's conversation with his Supervisor would sound like this:

Supervisor: Alan-san.

Alan: Masturbation?

Supervisor: No! NO! Alan-san!

Alan: Mastur-bation?

Supervisor: Don't say that!

Alan: Masturbation?

Oh man... poor Alan... he'd been saying it for three weeks - at his schools, his office, and all around his nice new town.

Alan was a good sport, however, and as far as I know, he never even attempted to get me back, probably correctly reasoning that I'd probably do something incredibly stupid to myself if left alone long enough.

Somewhere, going blind - or is it deaf? Onani?
Andrew Joseph
Blog title is by Captain Sensible - You can hear about it, WHAT? I love this song - but this was the first time I'd ever seen the video.
PS: The gent in the photo above is Alan with some ghoul he dug up for a Halloween party over at James Jimmy Jive Dalton's place in 1991.
PPS: I read about the onani word in an American comic book. Who says they rot your brains?
PPPS: Wot is how the Brits say "what". Gawds I love it when a plan comes together without a plan.