(2005) In the Miso Soup Read Online Free Page A

pink lingerie. Block out her surroundings, and the hostess might have been holding a sacred flame in a temple in ancient Greece. I figured the two men to be from the sticks. A lot of salarymen from the provinces who visit Tokyo on business trips come to Kabuki-cho at night, probably because it’s the one part of town that doesn’t put on any airs. It’s easy to spot these guys because they always turn bright red when they drink. There’s something different about their features, too, not to mention their fashion sense. Untold numbers of them get taken inby hardcore clip joints, and I’ve often thought guiding tour groups from the farm belt might be profitable. But I’m not about to try to learn all those dialects.
    “No karaoke for me,” Frank said, “but how about I study some Japanese? I’d like to practice my Japanese with girls in their underwear.” He extracted
Tokyo Pink Guide
, the book this time, from his bag.
    “The Way of Sexual Liberation!” shouted a blurb on the cover, above the title. Translation: This book will make you horny and show you what to do about it. Below the title it said: “What? Where? And How Much? All the information you need to navigate Tokyo’s sexiest spots!” I have a copy of this book for business purposes and am slowly wading through it, partly to brush up my English, but I have to admit it’s pretty interesting. For example, Chapter 9 is about the gay scene. It starts with historical background, how the Buddhist prohibitions against women and the machismo of samurai society gave rise to a love of boys, and goes up to the present, taking care to explain that even though the entire sex industry in Japan has developed xenophobia because of AIDS, gays from more enlightened countries are still given a warm welcome in Shinjuku Ni-chome. It even names the best clubs to visit if you happen to be foreign.
    Frank opened the bright pink book and looked from Reika to Rie, saying: “All right then, here goes.” In the back of the book was a simple Japanese-English sex glossary, and he began reading words in alphabetical order.
    “
Aho
,” he said in a booming voice, and gave us the English translation (Shithead).
    “What did he just say?” Rie asked me, not quite understanding his accent. When I repeated the word, she began laughing and slapping her knee, saying: “
Iya da! Kawaii!
” (I can’t stand it! How cute!)
    Next Frank read the word
Aijin
(Mistress), then
Ai shiteru
(I love you). He muttered the English translations under his breath, but his voice was loud and resonant when he read the words in Japanese.
    “
Aitai
(I want to see you),
Akagai
(Ark shell; Vagina),
Ana
(Hole),
Ana deyaritai
(I want to stick it in),
Anaru sekkusu
(Anal sex),
Asoko
(Down there) . . .
Asoko . . . Asoko . . . Asoko
. . . .”
    It’s endearing when foreigners try their best to communicate in broken Japanese. When they’re giving it all they’ve got, you find yourself wanting to reward them by comprehending. My English is probably about the level of a decent high-school student’s, but I’ve found that you actually get on better with clients if you struggle to choose the right words rather than try to sound like a native speaker, the way so many idiot Japanese DJs do. As Frank kept repeating
asoko
, Reika and Rie began giggling uncontrollably, and even the other hostesses were turning to see what was so funny. Without the least hint of embarrassment—or lewdness, either—Frank plowed ahead, stumbling over the pronunciations but with an earnest, innocent expression on his face, like an actor on stage, projecting each syllable:
A-SO-KO
.
    “
Dai suki
(Love ya!),
Dame
(No!),
Dankon
(Penis),
Danna-san
(Mister),
Dare demo ii desu
(Anyone will do),
Dechatta
(Oops! I came),
Debu
(Fatso),
Dendo kokeshi
(Vibrator),
Desou desu
(I’m going to come),
Doko demo dotei
(A total virgin),
Doko demo dotei dakara desou desu
(I’m a total virgin, so I’m going to come),
Doko demo dotei dakara desou