Possible Job Opportunity…

I meant to blog this ages ago, but didn’t get round to it. While I was looking for alternative work after the collapse of Nova, I thought of applying to this school…

My School Wasnt Like This

My School Wasnt Like This

Not sure if I have the right qualifications though.
Also, bit strange that the Umeda (kind of like Picadilly Circus in London) High School is in the red light district don’t you think?

The reason I was there, he hastily explains, is that my (new) office is just over the road from the red light district, which also (like Soho in London) has some great restaurants and is right next to the big shopping area…honest guv.

Which leads me nicely on to my next topic. I don’t usually write about the “saucier” side of life here in Japan, but something recently came up on my radar that I had to write about.

While having a coffee break a couple of weeks ago outside the office, a small van drove past with a big wooden poster board on the back. The picture on the poster was a close up of a girl showing her knickers. Nice. Now my office is just across the road from the red light district as I said, but this van is driving around many roads showing off this ladies underwear.

After that, and every day since, on the way back to the station after work I pass a man holding a big sign with lots of pictures of ladies in various poses all showing their underwear under their skirts.

Imagine the Golf Sale man at Oxford Circus but with a different product.

Turns out this is advertising a newly opened cafe called “Panchira Cafe“.
Now stop, I know what you’re thinking but you’re wrong, it’s not a Heavy Metal cafe. That would be “Pantera Cafe“.
This is a cafe where, for 2000Y an hour (about a tenner in English money) you can look up girls’ skirts! As in “PANTchira“.

I’m beginning to think their is a cafe in Japan for any and all fetishes.
I don’t really know how the system works (perhaps some investigative journalism is called for…:DD) but I’m assuming these girls are paid by the cafe to display their wares, they’re not just some kind, obliging volunteers from the street who happen to walk past, or come in asking for directions.

It’s a funny old world.
Still, at least I know now where I’m having my stag do…

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