My Turkish delight.

I hate to admit it, but the Turkish delight was one of my few slip ups. If the boys were duds in bed like Shingo, or just ridiculously short like the Peruvian then it was easy to love em’ and leave em’ but when they were charming and flirty and fun, it was hard to not get sucked in to the web of being emotionally fucked over. I don’t know why women do it to ourselves, we know deep down in our heart of hearts that the guy is never going to be our prince charming, yet we hold out the hope and check our phone every 3 minutes to see if he’s called or texted. I was lucky in a way, I got distracted with an Iranian boy after the Turkish delight, but had I not been, he may have well and truly done me over.

Needless to say I was exhausted after my surprise Friday night pick up and drunken Saturday night adventure so after brunch on Sunday I decided that a quiet night in with movies was definitely in order, I remember being in the video store choosing old classics when my friend from when I first came to Japan called me, she worked at various Osaka bars and clubs so Sunday night was always her night off, and she asked me if I fancied Turkish food. Never one to turn down such an offer (especially in Japan!) I got the movies and hopped straight on the train. I promised myself not to drink a drop and I didn’t go home and doll myself up on purpose so I wouldn’t be tempted to any late night bar or clubbing adventures, I was going to have dinner and then come straight home in time to still watch a movie before I had to sleep. But things never go like that do they.

I did keep one promise that night, I didn’t touch a drop of alcohol, I think my body was still saturated in vodka from the night before, plus the lack of sleep made me feel queasy just thinking about drinking. Another reason I decided to go for dinner was that I knew a good meal would make me feel better too. So I met my friend in Osaka and she led me through the winding backstreets around Dottonbori to the obscure tiny Turkish place that’s aroma was amazingly good I remember actually sucking up drool in my mouth. Once we got inside it was an unexpectedly big restaurant with garish pillars and fake plants, dimply lit by fake candles and swinging chandeliers. Belly dancing girls were snaking their way through the tables in an hourly show, their flat tummies not that authentic, but nice to look at all the same. My friend knew the owners and we were seated in a quiet corner and started chatting with a club owner who was at the next table. The night scene is so small in Osaka, it seemed that there were only about 3 owners who shared the gaijin bars so everyone knew each other. I’d met Turkish delight before at a club but never actually talked to him personally, but he was in the kitchen waving madly at us and mouthing that he’d be over in a second. I highly doubt he was a chef by trade, more than likely he was in Japan and happened to be Turkish so ended up working there, not that it mattered, the food was amazing.

After we were stuffed with all the goodies we could eat, the trademark Turkish ice cream stretching began and Turkish delight chose me to make a fool of by taking the ice cream and doing a little show for all the Japanese people in the restaurant. I wasn’t amused, I hate being the centre of attention when it’s not my choice and instantly turned bright red and tried to hide my face, but I must admit, I was already admiring the cheeky smile Turkish delight liked to flash around. We stayed talking and eating for a long time, so long that we ended up still being there when they were ready to close and I hadn’t realized but the last train had also gone. This wasn’t that big of a deal, my friend lived in the city and I could always just crash at her place but it soon became apparent from her shots and beer chasers that she was up for a big night, and despite the fun I was having, I was still totally wrecked and desperately needed sleep. I could have asked for her key but we weren’t actually that close and I felt a bit weird asking, so I decided I was going to walk as far as I could and then taxi it back home. I once walked home from Umeda, which is further away than where we were so I knew it was possible, it would take a good 3 fucking hours but it was definitely do-able. I told the group that I was heading off and most of them were too pissed to notice so I slipped out the door and began my weary trek down the main streets to drink in the sites and sounds of straggling drunk salarymen and hosts just about to go to work, it wasn’t long after I’d started walking that I heard footsteps running behind me. Now Japan is not a place where I’ve ever felt that threatened at night but my instincts pricked up all the same and I swiveled around to see the Turkish delight in his street clothes and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth running after me. He said he was worried about me walking home and my panties just about fell off right there, I mean really, what girl in Japan can resist a gentleman when the usual Japanese guy slams doors in your face or sinks down in to his keitai while you stand up in high heels on the train!?

So we walked and chatted and he told me he wanted to move to England and start a business selling Turkish sweets which was kind of random, I wasn’t sure where this was going though, we walked for a good hour before he finally asked me where I lived and I told him my suburb which was still a good hour and a half away at a fast pace. I felt bad then, like I’d trapped him but he just laughed and said he’d pay for the taxi. (Again with the lure of the gentleman, no wonder I fell for him!) So we got to my place and I felt awkward without the usual alcohol pumping through my veins but his charm took over for me so I didn’t really have to do much. And he was good in bed, like he totally loved me for that 2 hours we were messing around, which is just irresistible. I remember him stroking my cheeks and playing with my hair at some ridiculous hour in the morning but I was fighting sleep because I wanted to take in all the affection I could. We finally fell asleep and woke up for more cuddles and morning sex which most Japanese guys I’ve been with have never been in to (I’m all for it as long as I have a chance to brush my teeth and wash my face first, OCD is a very unromantic thing sometimes.)

Now if he’d left in the morning with no mention of any further meetings then I don’t think I would have been so taken with him, OK, who am I kidding I totally would have been… But he was such a flirt that he made all these empty promises and then rarely came through on them or cancelled at the last minute for some reason that I thought sounded legit at the time but looking back should have been screaming “he’s fucking a different girl you simple cow!!!” at me all along. Long, teary story short, I let the Turkish delight string me along for far too long and only ever shagged him twice after that before the Iranian came in to the picture and helped me forget him. Turns out my Turkish delight was a little too sweet, even for my sweet tooth.

And that, was definitely the craziest shagging weekend I’ve ever had!