You ever lock eyes with someone across the room and your heart begins to flutter? You just think to yourself, “Oh my god, he’s the one. He’s perfect. I definitely want to have sex with that guy.” Well, that guy was 24, Dutch and sitting across from me in the hostel lobby. Let’s call him T.
It was my last night in Japan and I had promised myself that I would go to bed before the sun came up. Instead, I found myself sitting cross legged, surrounded by my newest batch of drinking buddies. With a can of Strong Zero in my right hand and a Sapporo in my left, I settled in for a long night. By five in the morning, everyone had slowly retreated up to their rooms until only three of us were left: me, T and the guy passed out on the floor between us.
Next thing you know we’re making out in the hallway, heavy breathing as our hands begin to wander. In between kisses one of us muttered, “Do you have a condom?”
I can’t believe I forgot to bring condoms, but to be fair, I was trying to pack light. Good thing we were located in between a 7-Eleven and a Family Mart, in a city full of convenience stores.
T came back from the store and this time we opted for the elevator over the stairs. Articles of clothing hit the floor before we had even made it back to ours. As the elevator announced our arrival with a faint ding, I figured a public elevator seemed more private than a dorm full of 10 other sleeping bodies. I hit “DOOR CLOSE”.
We hit another snag. These Japanese condoms were a little snug, which I think made him feel a little smug. They also came with thin, wax paper flaps attached to the sides and it took a few minutes for us to figure them out. After fumbling around we realized if you pulled them one direction it literally unrolled the condom onto one’s penis. Japan is known for its efficiency. Way to streamline the process.
I had never had sex in an elevator before this, but it always looked hot in movies. A hot guy holding me up against the wall, knowing that at any second anyone could press that elevator button? Hot. Elevator sex is hot… that is until you actually start to have sex and realize, a shaking elevator? Kind of spooky, kind of loud. Here I was, having sex with an attractive guy and my mind had momentarily wandered, dreaming up scenarios in which the police found my dead naked body in a wreckage at the bottom of an elevator shaft. Not the kind of shaft I was hoping to be wrecked by.
I finally snapped out of the grim daydream and soon enough the banging sounds were drowned out by other kinds of banging sounds.
We exited the elevator, hair disheveled. He walked me to my room and asked if I wanted to go out tomorrow. Considering it was close to seven in the morning, I tell him it already is tomorrow and that in a couple hours I had to catch a flight back to Canada. That’s the joy of sex abroad isn’t it? Hostels are just a melting pot of different nationalities coming together, sharing one too many beers, coming together — and before you can even begin to romanticize the stranger you just met, you’re already flying to two separate continents and never see each other again.
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