Tangles with a Japanese Mafia Boss: A True Story

Jules is the most Japanese white guy I know. Not your predictable J-pop loving, Anime-watching, AV Idol-obsessed Japanophile. No, Jules is the exception to the rule. After four years of living in the Kanto region, he speaks near-perfect Japanese, and uses a dialect unique to Osaka – one used by many Japanese comedians. He works at a host club, an industry found only in Japan, where wealthy, lonely women pay exorbitant sums of money to sit and drink with charismatic, fashionable and conversationally skilled young Japanese men…  And one white guy named Jules. All of his co-workers and customers are Japanese and none of them speak any English. He is the antithesis of an ESL teacher in Japan.

In the past few years, Jules has had a number of encounters with the Japanese mafia – the Yakuza – from jealous husbands of host club customers, to low-level gang members drunk on the streets of Tokyo. This story is maybe the most bizarre and interesting.

–

This story happened about a year ago, as Jules was whiling away an afternoon at a sento — a kind of urban onsen (Japanese public bath) – in Osaka.

The bath house goes silent as three Japanese men walk in wearing towels. The men were heavily tattooed in the style of the Japanese mafia. The important-looking middle-aged man walks to the hottest bath, unwraps his towel, and slowly lowers himself in the water, letting everyone in the room know that the water is hot. “Ach, ach, ach ach….”

The other two men sit down on the wall of the pool on either side of him, their eyes scanning the room. Jules is intrigued. He walks over to the same bath and sits across from the middle-aged guy – let’s call him Mafia boss for now. The two presumed bodyguards give Jules severe looks, but he pretends not to notice. “Hey, that’s a pretty fuckin’ nice tattoo” Jules says to Mafia boss, in his harsh, informal Japanese. He looks up and examines Jules, holding eye contact for a few long seconds — as if trying to see his true character – before answering. “Thanks.” says the boss, then showing a half smile.  “I got this one,” he says, pointing to a golden carp and a set of waves on his right shoulder, “after I got shot with a nine millimeter in ‘85… to cover the scar”.  The two start talking and soon Jules has Mafia boss laughing with his charisma and his many stories. “And so I dumped the girl and started dating her mom! Man, she was pissed!!”

The boss offers Jules a beer. “Damn….” Jules says, thinking how there’s usually no alcohol permitted in sentos. He smiles. “I’ll have two.” The boss slaps the meaner-looking bodyguard on the shoulder. “Oi! Stupid!” the boss yells. “Go get us some beers at the convenience store!” The bodyguard looks confused. “Go!” He yells, and laughs. The diminished guard quickly walks to the change room. At this exchange, the few remaining customers also quietly slip into the change rooms to leave. Jules relaxes into the steaming bath, knowing he is in for an adventurous afternoon.

Jules and the Mafia boss spend the next few hours chatting and telling jokes over beer and later shots of sake, with the guards not saying more than a few words the whole time. No other customers or staff come into the bath house.

When it is time to go, the boss hands Jules his business card. On the card is his name, Takamoto and cell number. It doesn’t state his occupation. “Give me a call if you’re ever looking for work.” He says, looking Jules in the eyes. “If you work for me, you can make very good money.” The two shake hands. The two bodyguards nod their heads at Jules as they walk past. Jules notices but ignores them.

–

It is exactly two weeks to the day when Jules decides he will call Takamoto. After all, Jules hasn’t had a job in months. He has mostly subsisted on leeching off his girlfriends (he usually sees at least two or three wealthy “family money” girls at any given time. One girl even regularly paid rent on his $600 apartment in Osaka.)  But Jules wanted an upgrade in lifestyle, and was willing to try working to get it.

“Hello, Takamoto? Hey, it’s Jules… Yeah, that’s me. From the sento. I was thinking about what you said. If I need work…” Takamoto tells him that he is thrilled and will pick him up in twenty minutes. “Twenty minutes?” says Jules, admittedly taken aback by the quick pace. “Uh.. Yeah, Okay. I’ll be ready.”

A half-hour later a black SUV with tinted windows pulls up. The back door opens to reveal a pinstripe-clad Takamoto looking relaxed and sipping a German beer. He greets Jules with a smile and hands him a beer. Jules recognizes the driver as the mean-looking bodyguard from the sento. As they start down the street, Jules asks where they were going  “Ah, just some business. You’ll see.” Takamoto answers. “And you will help.”

They drive from Jules apartment towards downtown Osaka, and abruptly pull into a love hotel parking lot. Jules looks around, realizing where he is, telling himself there must be a good explanation. A lack of downtown parking, he hopes. They walk through the love hotel lobby, which is basically a unattended vending machine advertising pictures of the rooms and their hourly rates. This particular hotel is higher class, the kind of place a well-to-do Japanese businessman might take his mistress during lunch break. Jules grows increasingly nervous as they walk into the elevator.. “Just business” said Takamoto, and smiles, as he presses the button for the fifth floor. The mean-looking bouncer nods at Jules. Jules nods back, nervously wondering what is in store for him.

Jules, Mafia boss, and mean-bodyguard all walk quietly down the hall, and stop at room 504. The door is unlocked and Takamoto walks in first. Jules looks the bodyguard up and down, wondering if he has a gun and sizing up whether he can outrun him if need be. Jules takes a gulp — laughing silently to himself that his gulp was very cliché and movie-like — and walks in feeling prepared for anything.

Jules finds that they are not alone in room 504. On the bed is a slender, attractive Japanese woman in her mid-thirties wearing a long silk negligee. She smiles at Jules.

Takamoto breaks the long silence.
“So, your first job will be to have sex with this woman.” He looks at Jules for a reaction. “You see, your work is not actually sex – this is a kind of initiation into our… well, gang.”

Jules is confused. A million thoughts flood into his mind at once. Have sex with this woman? Now? What the hell is this? I mean, she is hot… But — initiation?

“So, let me get this straight. You want me.. to have sex… with this woman…” Jules says, enunciating each word.

Takamoto nods yes.
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“And you will watch?”
“No, I don’t have to watch.”
“So… Why?”
“Like I told you, it’s a kind of initiation. You said you would like to work for me, I need to know you are of strong personal character and commitment.”

Jules looks at the woman for her reaction. She smiles. “Mm, very handsome.” She says.

“So… who is she?” Jules asks.
“Well, you see, she is the wife of a very powerful mafia boss. Not our mafia, a different one. And her husband cheated on her with a woman I know.” says Takamoto.
“And so this is like a revenge?”
“In a way, you could say that.” He says, as he looks at the woman. “And it also serves the purpose that you would be loyal to my gang. You would be doing me a favor and then you could work for me. And of course, I would protect your name. About this affair, you see. It works for both of us. You will be taken very well taken care of in my gang.”

Jules stands quietly, reflecting on his situation and conscious of everyone’s eyes on him.

He tries to make sense of the details in his mind. So, to work for the mafia, I’m to be blackmailed into being loyal, lest I be tracked down by another crime boss for screwing his wife? But I’ll be paid well and live a life of adventure and crime. He smiles for a moment. And I might be tracked down by another crime boss for screwing his wife. His smile fades.

Jules looks at the door, which is shut. He considers making a run for it and tries to remember where the emergency staircase was in the hallway.

Instead he laughs. “Well, I’m sorry, not today, my friend.” Jules says. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this kind of work.” He announces. “How about we go for a beer?” He tries to hide his hopeful look under a smile.

There is a long moment of silence.

“Oi.” Takamoto motions with his head to the bodyguard. “Drive him home.” he says.  Then to Jules: “I’m disappointed you will not work for me, but I understand.” Takamoto says to Jules, coldly. “Do not call me again.” Takamoto shuts the door hard behind Jules as he follows the bodyguard out.

–

Sitting silently in the back of the SUV on the way back to his apartment, Jules makes eye contact in the rearview mirror with the mean-looking bodyguard. Jules nods. The bodyguard looks back to the road without nodding back.

Jules thinks to himself he is glad he is not in that club.

–
(The above story was adapted from an interview I did with Jules in 2007. I’ll be publishing a story about his experiences working in a host club soon.)

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