I spent almost one hour walking through the maze of alleys that make up Roppongi, looking for an inexpensive meal, before hopping back onto the subway.Д«efore my nightly bath, and turning in early, I indulged in yakitori (barbequed chicken kabobs) from a nearby restaurant. It had the same sort of multi-level 'gentleman's clubs' that weren't open yet, a handful of eastern European streetwalkers and a few pricy Italian restaurants. Roppongi is a different sort of red-light district, in that it's more of a crossroads for foreign travellers and diplomats.

Anyway, on my way out I couldn't help notice that the Nihonjin sarariman were still getting 'serviced.' More power to'em I say. Frankly, I think it's a turnoff, and that a woman should look like a woman and not a child. There's a trend in America now where women are shaving their pubes because they think it's sexy. The stripper had a nice ass and tiny tits, and thankfully she didn't shave. So this is what it feels like to sit at the back of the bus. It's just their way of keeping their race pure, I guess. While minorly irritating I did feel slighted. When I turned around to answer she saw my white face and said 'so sorry' and left. Shortly after she began, another woman in pink lingerie opened the curtain to my booth and asked 'Sabisu?' meaning do I want service. After a couple minutes the stripper made her way to a tiny stage, Marilyn Manson music started playing and she did a strip-tease reminiscent of the booths in San Francisco's Tenderloin. I thought the kleenex was a funny touch, but kept my wiener in my pants. The stripper is behind a mirrored glass window, with each patron given a private bench and a box of kleenex, arranged into an arc. But since I was a foreigner, I could only see the show and not receive 'special service.' My eyebrows raised: what was this special service us foreigners cannot get? Anyway, it seemed fairly safe so I decided to plunk down the fee for a short strip show. The clerk told me it was a strip show lasting 17 minutes for 2000 yen. Since the sign above the entry said 'No Foreigners,' I didn't go in but supposed this is one of those naked rubdown massage parlors I've read about online.ДЄt one establishment foreigners were allowed, and since the fee was approximately 20 dollars I decided to see what all the fuss was about. I peeked down the stairs of one of these, and was able to see a woman's legs in sandals. The price-scales move upward as it gets later in the day. Some basement businesses were open, most with signs outside advertising time with women for certain rates. Cleaning the splooge off the floors in preparation for the afternoon commuter deluge of horny sarariman, I suppose. Most businesses were closed, with many steam-cleaning trucks and hoses parked in front of them. There are many high-rise (5 or 6 stories) buildings with gentleman's clubs on each floor, with shot bars on many of the ground-floor levels. Kabuki-cho is a grid of narrow streets next to Shinjaku station. Being early on a weekday, I was able to capture the essence without the chaos. Today I took a stroll through the two notorious red-light districts of Tokyo, Kabuki-cho and Roppongi. I've already got my Snoopy Town Harajuku cell-phone chotchka ready for my next visit!ДЄfter saying our sayonaras, I went back to my favorite sushi restaurant under the tracks at Akihabara for a final pig-out before the long flight back home tomorrow. Besides, there are all kinds of cute and cheesy things you can hang off the lanyard. So my note to self, and note to travelers, is that it is well worth renting a cellphone if you travel in Tokyo.

It seems absolutely critical to have a cellphone in this territory. Just about everyone on the trains has a cellphone, and when they are not talking they are sending text messages back-and-forth. She had been on the go all day at a job fair and was tired. We had some coffee and a final chat, and that's about all we had time for. Fortunately, I was able to call her before she made too much distance, so she doubled back. After standing in the cold for an hour, she was on a homeward-bound train by the time I made it to Hamamatsucho for our rendezvous. Because of my unfamiliarity with the local transportation system, I made a judgement on a transfer that cost valuable time. My last outing with sensei was very short, and almost aborted due to a final SNAFU.

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