Gravure Idol Exposes the Night She Was Nearly Offered to a TV Producer

“What a waste.”

As we approached my neighborhood, I thought, “I’ll get out of the taxi as soon as we’re close!” But as we reached Shinjuku Sanchome, the old man suddenly said, “I can’t hold it anymore, so I’m stopping by your place to use the restroom.”

I refused, saying, “It’s quite far, so let’s just find a convenience store,” but he insisted, “I’m a germophobe, so that’s impossible! I won’t do anything, I promise, just let me in.” He put his arm around my shoulder again and blew his breath on me. That sharp, distinct smell of a middle-aged man hit me.

The back-and-forth continued until I reached my limit. When the taxi stopped at the Isetan intersection’s traffic light, and as the car started moving again on the green light, I jumped out without warning. The old man looked shocked, but I quickly said, “Thanks for the treat!” and ran toward Ni-chome.

At a bar I used to frequent, I happened to run into a comedian I knew. I vented about the entire ordeal, saying, “I didn’t come to Tokyo to go through this,” and I couldn’t stop crying.

I wanted to be on TV. I wanted to be in variety shows. But the industry was full of filthy old men, people assigned to deliver women to them, and I was nothing more than a disposable pawn. Even though I wasn’t physically forced into anything, my spirit felt completely drained. It was the first time I had ever felt this awful at an industry-related drinking party.

A few days later, Y-chan gave me a slightly annoyed look and said, “You wasted a good opportunity.”

But I had seen it. When I was being shoved into the taxi with the producer, she received several bills from the scout-looking guy. She was probably told something like, “Bring me an aspiring entertainer who’s willing to sleep around.” I called her out on it, but she just skillfully dodged the topic.

Even for a minor gravure idol like me, stories like this are everywhere.

Actually, now that I think about it—was that middle-aged guy even really a producer?

One thing’s for sure, I’m glad I didn’t sleep with him. Whether I had or hadn’t, he was never going to give me any work anyway.