A Tight Situation

Used panties are dirt cheap!

It's one of my first few days off in Japan. I'm living in an unremarkable suburb of Nagoya, teaching English at a once-infamous (and now defunct) eikaiwa. You know the one!

I'm using this free time to explore the city's culture, dining, and — perhaps most importantly—shopping options. On one of my first days I venture out of my comfort zone and accidentally ramble through the Ikeda Koen area, a bit shocked at the grunge of it all—the gritty barrage of the area's sights and sounds.

It's early spring, so the weather is just starting to warm up. I'm wearing my standard day-off uniform of a short black skirt, fishnet tights, and funky sneaks. I can't help but be drawn to a storefront near the park that reads, "We support your socks life." Hmm...

I should probably add that, at this point, I'm no stranger to being approached by random people in Japan. Within my first few weeks, I've managed to "befriend" a guy in a grocery store (he approached me on my very first day when my defenses were down), a girl who works in Starbucks (she would always speak English to me in a cutesy voice like Minnie Mouse that I adored.)

Once, a crossing guard who recognized me on the train platform tried speaking to me until it was pretty obvious that neither of us knew enough of the other's language to carry on a conversation.

I can't help but be drawn to a storefront near the park that reads, "We support your socks life." Hmm...

While none of these encounters have led to any lasting friendships, they've also been harmless, so being approached by someone unknown doesn't automatically set off any alarm bells in my mind.

So here I am near the fringe of Ikeda Koen, sifting through the tights on display in the bins outside the shop, when an average-looking middle-aged Japanese man approaches me. He speaks at me in rapid-fire Japanese, and I'm totally lost but manage to catch the word "presento" thrown in there somewhere.

"Ah..." it dawns on me, he's asking me if I'm buying a present for someone.

Upon later reflection, I wonder if he was offering to buy a pair of tights as a present for me. In the heat of the moment, though, I simply smile awkwardly, mumble "Hai... presento..." and continue browsing, considering this conversation to be over. He doesn't make any attempt to communicate further and shuffles away ...or so I think. I head into the store to continue shopping (and have my socks life supported, naturally) and pretty much forget the entire exchange.

A few minutes later, as I'm walking out of the store, I notice that my little friend is lurking in a nearby corner, and he's obviously waiting for me. He gestures that he wants to say something and then starts speaking to me, though this time in shockingly controlled English. "Give me your tights," he orders. "I'll pay you ¥1,000 for them."

Surprised and disgusted, I say "No!" and scuttle away as quickly as possible. I spend the next half-hour looking over my shoulder, paranoid that he may be following, intent on kidnapping me, or at least stealing my tights away.

I am suddenly painfully aware of the fact that he blends in seamlessly with the crowd, whereas I could probably be spotted and tracked from several hundred feet away. Though I have a few close calls, imagining that I see him, the rest of the day passes without incident.

Net result?

I've been mortified by the audacity of this fella. I have it on good authority that used underwear can go for at least ¥10,000. Yet this sketchy character near Ikeda Koen not only had the nerve to approach me and ask for the very tights I was wearing, but he also had the guts to offer a measly ¥1,000!

Clearly, foreigners' undies are either not as sought after as those of Japanese women, or he simply figured I was too naïve to know the going rate for used panties.

How dare he think I would be that cheap!

By Caroline Schrieffer