Where would I be in Japan without excessive arm hair?

This is a delicate question upon which to ponder. However, a bit of initial explanation with respect to the meaning of the title is in order.

The Japanese have an obsession with foreign arm hair. Particularly, mine. Yes, it is true. Mine seems to be of great fascination to them. This is the result of two distinct genetic blessings: the first being overall mass, the second being their felicitous blond color. Apparently I have hit the jackpot in the later category. Now, I must add, that with respect to other Western Caucasians as myself, my arm hair is by no means in the astronomically shocking Robin Williams type levels. But, instead, perhaps just slightly above average in quantity. Leaving me with nothing grotesquely permanent attached to my forearms. Therefore to get back to the discussion at hand, I have had several unknown, and quite tasty Japanese ladies approach me and begin softly caressing my fascinating fur, to the definite delight of yours truly. Thus, it has served itself surprising well in acting as an "ice breaker", if I may, towards advancing social opportunities. Now I am not saying that a typical night on the town goes something like: arm hair rub by foxy stranger followed by foot race to nearest love hotel with said foxy stranger. But, sometimes a random arm hair rub by a bright eyed ostensibly innocent young girl can be all it takes to lift the spirits of a melancholy soul such as myself.

The other surprise benefit of my fascinating frizzies has been its use as a bridge towards interaction with my commonly shy students. A gentle stroke of my golden bough by an otherwise bashful young learner has often served as the first moment of contact between us, thus beginning a friendship of international exchange beholden to arm hair. Who would have ever thought so much was possible merely through a few innocent strands protruding from my limbs.

Here's lookin' at you arm hair.

Thanks.