Love Hotels

Hard to believe that Fukuoka has a less than average number of love hotels. Shame on us.

The number of love hotels nationwide is (or was at the time of the original post) 5,670, or 5.39 hotels per 100,000 adults.

Miyazaki Prefecture has the highest number, with 14.08 per 100,000 adults (deviation value: 72.4). Second place was Saga Prefecture with 13.28 houses. From here on, to be known as “Saucy Saga”. Third place and below are Fukushima prefecture (12.50), Kumamoto (12.21), and Tottori (11.70). Begs the question what is going on in randy old Kyushu.

On the other hand, Hyogo Prefecture has the lowest number of hotels—only 0.84 per 100,000 adults (deviation value: 28.8). This is followed by Kanagawa (1.78), Aichi (2.70), Tokyo (2.73), and Saitama (3.35). Sad.

Incidentally, the very first rabuho I ever went to happened to be in Kumamoto. It was called DINKS, a term I hadn't heard of before. I asked my girlfriend what it was supposed to mean and she replied matter-of-factly, "Dual-Income, No Kids". The poor girl’s English wasn’t very good, but for some reason she knew that term. It just rolled off her tongue like she had said it a hundred times before.

(By the way, "DINKWAD" means "Double income, no kids, with a dog". A lot of my friends are DINKWADs.)

According the site note, the number of lover hotels has been gradually decreasing every year. In 2018, there were 5,417 establishments, but in 2022 the number had fallen to 4,885. It is estimated that around 100 love hotels go out of business every year. There seem to be a variety of factors contributing to this, including population declines in local cities, young people moving away from cars, and stricter regulations by local governments.

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Best Day EVER

I find this in my neighborhood.

In the park.

Close to where all the love hotels are.

I picture a foreign man with a Japanese woman, both young and relatively good looking, leaving one of those hotels, slightly uncomfortable, yet holding hands. They walk to the nearby park where they hug one last time. The man takes out his card, writes this message on the back, and gives it to the girl before kissing her goodbye.

Now that he is gone, she turns to head home. It’s a long walk and she’s cursing herself for having missed the last train. The least he could have done was offer me money for a taxi, she thinks. Would she have accepted it, though? No, she wouldn’t have. She pauses, looks at the card. “Best day ever?” she asks herself. “Meh,” she answers and tosses it to the ground.