In Japan, you work every hour God (or Buddha) sends in the employ of the same company for your entire life. You respect your boss (fellas back at Henry, please take note). In the unlikely event of knocking off work in time to spend some "quality time" with your wife, the walls of your tiny apartment will be too thin to get into heavy petting, and you'll have to hot foot it to a "love hotel". If that sounds as dreary as a dull grey day in the city, bear in mind that life insurance, pensions, healthcare, even family holidays are paid for, and a job for life still exists, indeed is expected, here. However, the lot of these so called "salarymen" (and indeed women) does not appear to be a happy one if the
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