For about a year and a half, I did not notice any change in our relationship even though we were living like roommates. Dressed in some of the finest lingerie that she could now buy, she would often visit me in the master bedroom and practically seduce me every single time, though without giving me any explanation, she would dutifully return to her bedroom to sleep. I think I was fairly happy with my relationship since many colleagues of mine were in even worse situations. Many of them were living like visitors in their own homes. With kids and old parents in the home, they did not have any privacy at all and intimacy with their wives was more like an annual gift to them from them.

In the spring, I was feeling somewhat 'single' again. Like many friends and colleagues, my relationship had reached a plateau. Most of us never thought much about this since it was so much a part of Japanese marital lives. I had thought of taking up a new hobby so that I could keep myself occupied during the weekends. I had often been fascinated by films and had fantasized about directing a documentary and was wondering if I should take some lessons in filmmaking.

It was during this period in my life that after three days of intense business meetings in Tokyo, on a pleasant Friday afternoon, I was on my way back home. While it was still not 5 PM and I should have gone to work, I simply decided to go home and take a break. I called the office and lied about missing the train and not being able to report back till Monday. 

When the elevator door opened on the 4th floor of my building and I started to pull my suitcase, I was surprised to see a gajin woman. She must have been there for a while because the way she was dressed in sneakers and a pink tracksuit, it was clear that she was ready for a jog. I am not sure if I even smiled at her. In part shock and part discomfort, I merely pulled my suitcase to our apartment. When I turned back to look, she was gone.

As I grabbed a beer and turned the television on, I started to speculate who could she be. Exactly how the mind of a lonely man always works!  While I had always been attracted to foreign women, this woman had something striking about her. She was tall like many American women but I didn't feel intimidated by her presence. Even though I barely saw her, I could not forget how gentle her face was and how approachable she appeared. For reasons that I could not explain to myself, I started to hope that she lived in our building and I would get a chance to see her again. An hour or so later as I finished drinking two beers, I positioned myself towards the door hoping to hear the footsteps of her return and maybe confirm if she lived there and get another glimpse of her. I did not hear her returning nor did I see her for next several days. In fact, while the first few days were filled with so much anticipation, after a few days, it wore off and I was merely left with curiosity. Despite having more gaijins than one can see in many other smaller cities, they are still a novelty in Nagoya, especially women. I often run into gaijin men streaming out of English language schools or occasionally with a Japanese lady. Unfortunately, despite our historical sites, tourists seem to skip Nagoya, and simply move on directly to Osaka and Kyoto.

Despite my fascination with everything American, I had never visited there. Well, if you do not count my half-a-dozen trips to Hawaii, of course! I did not find Hawaii to be anywhere close to the image of America I have. I had a great time there but did not need to speak a single word of English and my tour organizers hardly provided us with an opportunity to soak ourselves in the local culture. Thus my dream of engaging in conversations with Americans had been limited to occasional discussions with colleagues from our American offices. With their schedules rather full during their visits, I did not ever get a chance to learn more about American people. I do not know why, but appearance of this girl in the neighborhood made me think if she could be the one - a person who will let me know an American as a person.

Continued: Meeting the American woman