Now, I'm no stranger to that kind of merchant and the various delights (or terrors) that they may choose to peddle. However, usually one must enlist the help of a trained native guide who knows the terrain, has a reliable map hastily scrawled upon fibrous parchment and must be paid in advance in either shiny gems or some other equally valuable trinkets. An expedition is usually undertaken in order to reach such a hidden utopia of carnal delights, so to speak. But in good ol' family-friendly Tokyo, it seems like EVERY damn store, regardless of specialty, has a very non-secret staircase that descends into a labyrinthine maze where sultry nymphs and oiled tits assault the weary traveller's senses and hold him captive.
Examples? Meet Hitomi Tanaka. She looks like she's got a full weekend.
(Honestly. What would you even talk about? I can't even remember my name at this point)
I'm not saying this is a bad thing. It just caught me off-guard when I stumbled down the wrong passageway and found myself in a bizarre world. It was like Alice down the rabbit-hole. Except the white rabbit is now an old Japanese salaryman with certain hungers who may be late for a 'date' that I want no part in attending; no matter HOW important it may be.
But hey, to each his own. No harm-No foul.
The only true downside to this is that the aisles were SO tight (har-har-har) that one must squeeze past other customers.
...Yeah. Just let the dark side of your mind ponder the logistics of that. There's definitely a wide margin for potential unpleasantness.
Poor store planning or excellent store planning?
Your choice.
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