Jul 9

Kirsten’s World: Glitter on the Mattress

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Bow-waka-chika-POW!

By Kirsten Phillips (Niigata-ken, 2005-08) who is currently a teacher in the NYC Teaching Fellows Program.

If you see a faded sign by the side of the road…
My kid bro’s Japanese friend was surprised at his knowledge of love hotels as he had never been to Japan before. But love hotels are one of those garish social conventions that anyone with the faintest modicum of interest in Japanese culture needs to know. There’s no mystery to that fascination.

“It’s really strange.” His Japanese friend said. “Love hotels are the only way Japanese teenagers can really have sex. But what about American teenagers?”

Why do you think Americans have such big cars?

Love hotels are right up there with pachinko parlors in terms of class. In Niigata, love hotels were quintessentially scuzzy, roadside, neon-lit, yakuza-operated brothels ready to break a few cherries and marriage contracts. They are often found within a few miles of eachother, to give the fast couple an easily-accessible variety for their amusement. Japan is nothing if not convenient and for breeders on the go, getting the bang for your buck in as many ways as possible seems to be key to this design.

They’re not exactly shady inconspicuous places. How do you recognize a love hotel?

If you find yourself on any Japanese highway and spy a random Medieval castle in the middle of nowhere, you’ve probably found a love hotel. Hmm…

What does this say about Disneyworld?
Seeing the abundance of love hotels dotting the highway, I was reminded of a road trip to Florida. Travel far enough down a deep Southern highway and the family restaurants, gas stations, water parks and remnants of the red-hot carnies give way to “SUZY’S SLUMBER PARTY” and “DEBBIE’S DOLL HOUSE”. I’ll never forget, I was driving with my aunt and uncle and as soon as my aunt fell asleep, my uncle would joke:

“Ok kids, we’re heading down to CAFE EXOTICA!!!”

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

Most JETS I know have an ubiquitous love hotel story, even if they’ve never actually loved in one. It’s just too saucy and cheap a thrill to pass up. Allow me to share some of my modest examples.

Why anyone in ownership of four walls and a futon (ok, fuck the futon) would care to patronize a love hotel is beyond me. Love hotels, by their nature, are intended only for a short stint (or however long it takes). They are not good places to spend prolonged bouts of time in. You come then you go. (yes, shut up) If you must sate your curiosity, do yourself a favor and bring a black light. OR mentally succumb to that old adage: ignorance is bliss. What you don’t know about that bedsheet’s point of view can’t scar you. If you insist on spotless forensic-team style intercourse, it may be best to take your whoopie to the lab.

The longest time I ever spent in a love hotel was in Tokyo. One of my only friends there was also the most tightly budgeted. I have no idea how he ever managed to live in that madness as long as he did without a keitai. Anyway, his dwelling was located in a fairly seedy area of Tokyo, last stop on the Hibiya-sen. Friends, this neighborhood was hiding NO-thing. Soaplands, sex shops, vintage porn theaters, whorehouses, hostess clubs, oh yes, random elementary school!!! (how’s that for fucking urban planning? DAMMIT, TOKYO!) I loved the neighborhood and how unclean it was. I would stay with him whenever I found myself overnight in Tokyo and the man was GRACIOUS enough to lend me his bed while he slept on the floor.

He shoulda earn himself a sainthood for that. *shudder*

He lived in a love hotel that had been converted into an apartment complex. Cheap as HELL. No key money, no deposit, no questions, no bullshit. I’d walk into his lobby and there’d be an abandoned discreet check-in desk. The room itself was tiny and festooned with Gundam but it was way better than spending 6.000 yen in Ikebukuro for the same minus the Gundam.

Did this love hotel have a theme? Yes it did. Old and scuzzy. Waterbugged and sodium lit. Love is in the air.

I only stayed at a genuine love hotel once while on a road trip with two merry gentlemen. It was Golden Week and we were in Kyushuu. We were roughing it up as it were, made no plans or reservations. Just took our rugged fancy on the road. Predictably, every hostel, motel, and public restroom was already booked until we found a love hotel that had a vacancy. We were willing to spend the night in the car.

But was this better than the car?

It was unequivocally a question for science.

Love hotels can look as norm as a modest Hilton or as scary as a rusty trailer car. Free tetanus shots should be offered after use. But in terms of aesthetic, cheese is the primary factor. Any building shaped like a wacky pink castle, UFO, elephants (yup) or boats in the middle of nowhere is probably established to do the naughty. They had names like HAJIMETE NO KISU, MOON PALACE or DUNGEON HAPPY FUN TOWN. The place we happened upon was themed after Christmas. Fake Santa statues, wreaths and wassail. We got a room that was a clash of tawdry aesthetics, Christmas AND the tropics. Pink flamingos, plastic toucans, grass skirts and all.

It was fairly well equipped electronically. DVD player, toys, karaoke machine. Nothing says night of sweaty lust like karaoke. This was, after all, Japan. It was quite a distracting, creepy little place and all I can say is someone would have to have had an amazingly talented tongue to tear my eyes off that goddam wallpaper.

Ethically, there’s no harm in love hotels. Everyone does it in Japan. Good girls, bad girls, working girls, single girls, married girls. The Puritanical Christian stigma against fun is absent in Japan, making the concept of love hotel more of a MCDonalds than a scandal. Over a million served with a smile. The industry itself makes a ton of money and not just on knobby-kneed teenagers desperate for 15 minutes away from their kyoiku mommies. Hell, let’s not exclude the kyoiku mommies either! However, just because Japan does not demonize sex in the same ways, doesn’t at all mean that sex as a concept is better understood. Japan knows it is a country that hovers and it requires places that do not hide their purpose. For the sake of the nation, it offers people their own private loveshack. Click your tongue at will.

Then again, it is one thing to offer the time and space but it is quite another to actually educate. Sex may be talked about in gym class or some lame power point presentation but it unsettles me that so many Japanese kids do not ask questions. Or, let’s just say, sex is not discussed in the same context it is here. Oh, it’s not that they’re more innocent. Bullshit. The kids are doing it. Even worse, all it takes is enough scraped-up allowance to take your dream date to NORWEGIAN WOOD (thanx, Hiro) Essentially, I got the impression that the youth were being left to fend for themselves on delicate matters such as how to make babies, how and why to make friends with a frenulum, how and WHY to even have sex. Do they get this talk at home? Do they learn it all from movies, manuals or (even worse), video games?

What’s the deal here?