It’s not like the good old days anymore.
Perhaps on your university campus, you spotted a rather well put together Asian woman hanging off the arm of a rather average Joe.
Perhaps some older gent regaled you with his tales of sexual debauchery in Tokyo during his stint in the Navy.
Perhaps you’ve heard stories of some loser friend of a friend who moved to Japan to teach English who had raven-haired goddesses lined up around the block outside his tiny apartment despite his poor hygiene, potbelly, and complete lack of Japanese language skills.
Whatever the reason, wives’ (or perhaps Bros’) tales and missing-context observations like these lead people outside of Japan to believe that sexual “White God” status is instantly granted — like super human strength to Kal-El after he crash landed on Earth– to any male Caucasian foreigner who touches ground at Narita International Airport. From the stories you hear, you’d think that Japanese women are launching themselves mouth-first on to the open crotch of any round-eye in striking distance.
Fortunately, I am here to tell you, dear reader, don’t believe the hype: Game is a requirement here in the land of the rising sun for white guys as well. If you’re not getting laid back home, chances are you won’t turn into Casanova here. These tales of white sexual supremacy, while containing slivers of truth, only serve to distract from the realities of modern-day danjokankei, giving delusions of grandeur to the fair skinned and burdening the ruddier complexions with unnecessary self-doubt.
A Man in Asia 