And now, for something completely different.

I went running today which is something I do quite often. I love to run--it is my way of relaxing. I did it in high school, college and even ran a marathon before coming to Japan. Thank you my wonderful, beautiful family for running those last six miles with me. You will never know how much I was touched by that.
This day was meant to be different though. I went running and about 20 minutes in I had difficulty breathing, which I have unfortunately experienced for the last few weeks. I am not worried though because I am fairly sure it is just about how hard I am pushing myself lately. I don't want to get schooled by my schools, after all. Yet, I am aware of my physical shortcomings and took a small rest to measure my pulse. I always wear a heart monitor for these reasons.
At this point, I notice someone looking at me. He keeps peeking out behind the corner of a building. I assume it is nothing. I am very used to being a spectacle in this country, as a girl who loves sports.
As I determine my heart rate is in a safe range and take off though, this man walks into my path and says something to me. I take my headphones off and he says something about needing help. He leads me around the back of the building and says he needs help lifting an object that is vaguely fridge-like into his van, which is parked a few feet away. I say I can help him and we go to pick up this object. This object is incredibly light. I could have picked it up by myself. Really. He drops the end of it and says it is too heavy too lift for us, he thinks. I am thinking this is not true but I say ok and he tells me his friend is coming so I should wait and we could all lift it together. He asks if this is ok and if I have time. I say ok, not suspecting anything. Then he starts talking to me and asking all these personal questions, such as where do I live, do I live alone, do I have a boyfriend, am I friendly, do I want to be friends with him. I am so used to invasions of my space in this country and people's unhealthy interest in me that I still think nothing of it.
It is only when he wants to take pictures of me that I begin to become uncomfortable. Yet, I remember how I overreacted to the postman coming into my house and I wonder if it is a cultural thing. I protest that I have been running for 4km and am consequently not so good looking. He denies this and tells me I am very beautiful. It feels odd but I don't want to be a bitch, so I smile and say ok, just one. Sometime before this he asks me how old I am too and is pleased with my answer, calling me very young.
It becomes clear he is taking more than one picture of me and not entirely of...my face....I move away. During this time he tries to get me to sit down. I refuse, saying I am fine. He continues throughout this entire exchange to underscore how much he likes Americans and how attractive he finds them. I am feeling very uncomfortable.
Around this time, I realize he has lead me around the side of a building and I am not visible from the road. He starts to rebroach the fact that he loves Americans, that he finds them friendly, that he would like to be friends with more Americans. He asks if I want to be friends with him.
At this point I am scared. I am scared because he is bigger than most Japanese men. Because I am alone in an awkward position. But mostly I am scared because...because I look down at his crotch and it is clear through his jeans he has a boner. At this point I know I need to get out.
He starts to ask me about how I feel about cars. About how I would feel about going for a ride in his van. He asks if he can take some more pictures.
I say no, that I don't have time and run off. I hear him yelling through my headphones that he is 'A Big Boy' and he can make me happy. I run and run and run. Faster than my ass has run for years. I almost run right into some students of mine, which reassures me later that I could have been safe had he attacked me.
Yet, I feel like an idiot. I cannot believe I fell for the oldest trick in the book--a dude with a van asks for your help? Asks where you live and if you live alone? Are you serious? You do that in the states and I am calling 911 by your second question. I can't believe I let it go on for as long as it did. It is a warning to other women that moments like this transcend cultural boundaries and one should trust that feeling of Not Right and get the fuck out of that situation. I am just embarrassed that it took me as long as it did to listen to myself and not belittle my feelings for being culturally insensitive.