Double dip....
I don't recommend drinking beverages whilst reading this post.
So there I was at Diamond City, the cinema complex in Kami Otai, in a post film happy daze. Life was good, and improved dramaticly upon my finding a Baskin Robbins of all things next to the sushi plaza. Bad combo, IMHO. No fish for me, but ice-cream was mine. A scoop of Caramel Ribbon, and a scoop of Mint Chip, all on a glorious sugar cone. Two perfect round scoops, like I'd never seen. The manager inspected it before it was given to me, all but pulling out measuring tongs. They were so thrilled at my effusive gratitude that I got a bonus Snoopy pen. Bliss.
I took my time wandering back to the train station. Only way back short of being run over by the mass of traffic was to go through Nagoya House Land. Sort of a demo house lot, with display homes that the company can build, kitted out with muzak when open (last time, was Strawberry Fields Forever. Gah.)... and more horrifying, giant human-size Hello Kitty-chans seated in recliners looking at the twee Disneyized glory that is the dream of modern Japan. Fortunately for my sanity, it was past 8pm and closed. The sun was down and the wind up, and I felt comfortable. Got to picture this, me in scruffy denims with a white haltertop covered with a light blue shirt licking a cone.
Walking target. I finally got my encounter with a legendary Japanese 'chikan'... aka pervert.
Sadly for him, he had an encounter with me.
First thing I knew, a shape bounds out of the bushes, and squeezes my breasts. Second thing... well, have to admit, I went straight into automatic. No screaming, my hand just dropped and whammo, there went my icecream cone right into the chap's crotch. All I saw was his eyes bug out, before I spun and bolted for the train station. By the time my brain re-engaged, I was in front of the ticket stand... laughing hysterically.
I didn't call the police. God, could you imagine the reaction? "This is a APB, all officers be on the look out for a 30-something man with unseemly icecream stain..." And how I'd explain... no, no, I just caught the train home, with a probably nasty smirk on my face... which might be why no one on the crowded train wanted to sit next to the mad gaijin.
Got to wonder about the chap. If he's married, how the heck is he going to explain it to the wife? And will he be cured, or now have a new fetish and hang around ice cream parlours?
Heh....
So there I was at Diamond City, the cinema complex in Kami Otai, in a post film happy daze. Life was good, and improved dramaticly upon my finding a Baskin Robbins of all things next to the sushi plaza. Bad combo, IMHO. No fish for me, but ice-cream was mine. A scoop of Caramel Ribbon, and a scoop of Mint Chip, all on a glorious sugar cone. Two perfect round scoops, like I'd never seen. The manager inspected it before it was given to me, all but pulling out measuring tongs. They were so thrilled at my effusive gratitude that I got a bonus Snoopy pen. Bliss.
I took my time wandering back to the train station. Only way back short of being run over by the mass of traffic was to go through Nagoya House Land. Sort of a demo house lot, with display homes that the company can build, kitted out with muzak when open (last time, was Strawberry Fields Forever. Gah.)... and more horrifying, giant human-size Hello Kitty-chans seated in recliners looking at the twee Disneyized glory that is the dream of modern Japan. Fortunately for my sanity, it was past 8pm and closed. The sun was down and the wind up, and I felt comfortable. Got to picture this, me in scruffy denims with a white haltertop covered with a light blue shirt licking a cone.
Walking target. I finally got my encounter with a legendary Japanese 'chikan'... aka pervert.
Sadly for him, he had an encounter with me.
First thing I knew, a shape bounds out of the bushes, and squeezes my breasts. Second thing... well, have to admit, I went straight into automatic. No screaming, my hand just dropped and whammo, there went my icecream cone right into the chap's crotch. All I saw was his eyes bug out, before I spun and bolted for the train station. By the time my brain re-engaged, I was in front of the ticket stand... laughing hysterically.
I didn't call the police. God, could you imagine the reaction? "This is a APB, all officers be on the look out for a 30-something man with unseemly icecream stain..." And how I'd explain... no, no, I just caught the train home, with a probably nasty smirk on my face... which might be why no one on the crowded train wanted to sit next to the mad gaijin.
Got to wonder about the chap. If he's married, how the heck is he going to explain it to the wife? And will he be cured, or now have a new fetish and hang around ice cream parlours?
Heh....