I have a friend from work who is a real party animal, so I decided to join her in her escapades, and maybe pick up a slutty trick or two (the Aefro repertoire is becoming rapidly threadbare.)
Anyway, we have a few drinks and there are several J-boys (foreigner lingo to describe poncy faggoty ass Japanese men who wear pink shirts, get manicures, spend hours on their hair and I hasten to add, make up, and spend more time primping and preening than any self respecting woman I know, and wear jeans so tight it’s a miracle of nature that their nuts are not squeezed back into their brains.)
Word on the street is that all you’ve heard about the lack of girth on your average Japanese male is urban myth; that or my friend has just been lucky in her ass-tapping conquests.
The one guy was drunk enough to start talking to me; well, it turned out to be more of an incoherent alcohol-induced massacre of the English language than anything else. About a minute into this assault on my ears, he drops a gem into this conversation and tells me that I remind him of his mother. In my book, that does not top my list of commendations!
Then doesn’t he just start crying? I’m thinking, dear Lord, they usually only start crying ONCE they have got to know me, not before. Men here are the biggest pussies you could ever come across, they cry at the drop of a hat if they break a fingernail! Give me some good old fashioned farting, belching and scratching of balls. Good old fashioned testosterone.
To top off this little performance, I then found out I remind him of his DEAD mother. Ok, so I haven’t exactly been at my liveliest in recent times, but to be compared to a corpse! That takes some beating. But, having said that, in my life there is always room for things to get worse. In his butchered and mangled English he proceeds to tell me that he wants to introduce me to his father, in the manner of, I think you and my father would get along well.
Now I’m being pimped for his father!!!! Heavens preserve us, whatever next? And this guy wasn’t young either, so his father would not only be pushing 60, but probably be pushing up daisies soon as well, and this is what my life has come to! It’s enough to make a girl turn to drink, since getting laid by anyone below retirement age is obviously out of the question.
P.S. There is a rather disheartening thread running through all my recent posts about lack of any meaningful dick in my life. I would just like to post a disclaimer that a) I am not solely preoccupied by sex or, in my case, the significant lack thereof and b) this is a very recent state of affairs precipitated by my relocation to (not) fucking Japan.