Tentacle Sex: Notes from the Tokyo Underbelly (or as deep as I was willing to go)

This is the fifth of my posts about my six-day trip in Japan.

Though it was slightly disheartening, Kat and I welcomed the Tokyo drizzle and the relief it brought from yesterday's heat. And armed with umbrellas, we set out to explore Tokyo's hot spots during this, our second day in Japan.

A word of advice: two days in Tokyo is sufficient to see the highlights.

We crept past the terrifying Raijin, god of thunder, to enter the Senso-Ji temple complex where we rattled sticks in an aluminum tin and had our fortunes told for Y100 (U.S. $1.16). We wafted incense over our hair and faces for good luck and listened to the eerie chanting of the monks to the unsteady beat of the accompanying drum.

With Kat quickly mastering the dizzying Tokyo metro system, we zigzagged around the city, taking in the latest gadgets at the Sony building in the upscale Ginza neighborhood, and then viewing manga culture firsthand in the Akihabara neighborhood.

A world more animated

Manga and anime comprise Japan's comic book culture, complete with otaku, the obsessive geeks who "thrive" in this environment of crowded over-stimulation -- think Vegas with comics in a much more confined space. I'm not sure "thrive" is exactly the right term, so much as "completely recoiling from society into a alternate universe of comic book fantasy," but hey, who am I to judge?

The manga/anime themes of over-stylized, pseudo-erotic cuteness have paved way for the many maid cafes -- cafes with waitresses tarted up as maids (think sexed up, short skirts, high stockings and stacked heels, not Alice from the Brady Bunch), who will call you "Master" or "Mistress" as they serve your coffee.

Truthfully, I was caught completely off guard as I stepped into Akihabara. I was interested in trying out a maid cafe, but I was expecting more "old world refinement," and less, "naughty girl playing dress up." In my mind, the maids would look more like Mary Poppins in long skirts and high collars, and Kat and I would drink coffee from china teacups.

Stepping into Don Quijote

Wandering through Don Quijote, an emporium home to the world-famous maid cafe @home Cafe, I quickly realized there was nothing "spoon full of sugar" about this place.

Honoring the neighborhood's black market roots, Don Quijote had all the name brand and knock-off electronics and fashion you could shake a stick at, all packed in so tightly you that you and your purse need separate aisles. There was also anime/manga paraphernalia in droves -- everything from action figures, books and hair accessories featuring favorite characters to sex toys and costumes used for cosplay, or costume play.

Floor after floor, Kat and I wound upward through the claustrophobic micro-universe. On the sixth floor, teenaged boys lined up to have a popular author sign the latest manga card. Herded together in the cramped lobby, their scrawny, pimply forms sweltered together, and I recoiled from their pungent, unwashed stench.

A quick peek into @home Cafe was all I needed to realize it wasn't the place for our afternoon coffee and cake. I thought the district would be cute and bubbly, like Pickachu, but the whole area had a slightly seedy feel to it. Kat's stories of anime pornography and tentacle rape didn't help. I looked at those middle-aged men in the individual viewing booths, and, with a surge of pity, I left in a hurry -- not because I felt like I was in any danger (the otaku probably don't even know what to do with real, live, human girls), it just wasn't my scene.

Out of Akihabara

Kat and I whizzed off to the ultra-chic Roppongi Hills, an opulent neighborhood of dining and nightlife, but finding ourselves on the brink of exhaustion, we hastily ate a bowl of udon, strolled a bit and then headed back to the haven of Anne Hostel.

Next stop: Kyoto!

Check out my photos, "Tokyo, Metropolitan Mecca," on my Facebook page.