This summer I was feeling restless.
It had been a while since my last international trip.
I like Japanese culture, always wanted to see Asia, and wanted to capture my Japanese flag. So I decided on a short eight-night trip to Tokyo.
After reading one of my favorite seduction forums, I decided that Harajuku was the ideal home base. I was planning on doing massive amounts of day game. I needed to make sure I had the proper logistics. I didn’t want some hotel desk clerk cock blocking me from bringing a woman up into a room. So I found a private apartment on AirBnB. The owner was a Thai expat who spoke English and the price was reasonable. The whole place would be smaller than my master bedroom at home. Nothing fancy, but it had everything I needed. A kitchen, bathroom, washing machine, and bed.
I arrived at Narita after the long flight from San Francisco International. The train ride from Narita to central Tokyo was smooth, serene and relaxing. The rice paddies and the verdant green landscape of rural Japan gradually gave way to grey suburbs. Soon the train was speeding past massive silver towers and flashing neon lights, barreling through the vast urban expanse of the Tokyo metropolis.
After changing trains in Shibuya, I made the last five minute ride to Harajuku. I noticed a petite Japanese girls standing next to me. I was grimy and tired from almost twenty hours of travel. No matter. I opened my first set of the week.
“Do you speak English?” I said.
“A little!” she said.
We chatted for a few minutes. Her English wasn’t good, but she was very friendly. I was taken aback by her bad teeth – something I would notice again in many otherwise hot Japanese women. She looked so young that I asked her age. She was 17. Forget it, next. I know the age of consent in Japan is low, but I wasn’t taking any chances. The train stopped and I said goodbye to the Japanese schoolgirl.
I trudged up the hill from the station to my new pad, dragging my oversize luggage behind me. It was late afternoon by then, cloudy, dark and starting to rain. The apartment was in a quiet uptown neighborhood in Harajuku, just three minutes from the train station. The ground floor of my abode was a trendy Indian restaurant, with the residential apartments above. An alley across the street fed directly to Takeshita-Dori and the adjacent fashion district. I found my apartment and let myself in with a spare key. After a quick shower I suited up and plunged back into the seething tide of Asian humanity.
All that week I roamed the city, taking in the sites. And during my site seeing and picture-taking, I went to work. I approached like crazy. Now, I’ve traveled to a few different countries in my life. But nowhere else have I seen such a massive concentration of beautiful young women. Tokyo is crawling with them. I lost my approach anxiety almost immediately. I began to enjoy myself, didn’t think about it after the first dozen approaches. And it was simple, because I was using the same opening line on each one:
Do you speak English?
I lost count of how many approaches I made, but I’d guess around seventy or eighty. And I got rejected almost every single time. Most of the girls were polite. They’d giggle into their hands and say no, or just shake their heads. Some of the more beautiful girls were outright rude. They’d simply ignore me like I wasn’t even there. I did manage to get a few emails addresses from girls who did speak my language, but those went nowhere.
Sunday afternoon found me waiting for my train at the Harajuku station – on my way to a high-end department store called Isetan. The train pulled into the station and I waited to board. A river of people poured on and off the car.
I noticed a tall, slender white girl in a blue dress standing inside the train.
Read Part II: Day Game in Tokyo (Part 2 of 3)