Interview with a Lolita

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  I sense stock in this room’s future. Another prospective plastic peddler bows himself out of the room butt first and I wait until he disappears completely before dragging my hands down my face.

The kid was nice enough, polite and well mannered like the rest of them, but ultimately hard work.

The art of understanding the Japanese is so much more than just learning the language, so much more than an audiobook could ever teach me. They couldn’t teach you how to change the entire wavelength of your being. Culture shock doesn’t begin to describe it. I feel gaijin in every way, our worlds forever split apart far further than the ocean that separates us.

Two white guys opening a sex shop in the middle of Kabukicho was always going to be a challenge. Despite logistics, finances and the slew of veteran competitors across the street, our biggest hurdle was ourselves. We desperately needed a medium, a local who could not only help us out with the barriers we’d come across on a day to day basis but also help put our customers at ease. A Japanese face front and centre, smiling and welcoming their fellow perverts to the Womb.

I’m about to ask Dalton if he’s ready to call it a day when we feel the front door open in the other room. A brief chill washes over us before we hear it slam closed again.
“Didn’t know we had any more today,” I say, standing up from the box I’ve been conducting my interviews from. Dalton shrugs and follows me into the lobby. Both of us are entirely unprepared for what we find waiting – albeit in the cutest Mary Janes – on the other side of the door.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:
Tune in next week for the GRIPPING CONCLUSION of Enter: Su!!

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~ by Joseph Blame on October 5, 2010.

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