OK, many, many many years ago, a friend and I went to visit Tokyo (during the Occupation). We were walking down the Ginza only about an hour after arriving, when my buddy spotted a street artist doing portraits. Nothing would do but that he had to stop and have is mug drawn.
While I was waiting, a pimp came up and did his best to get us to, well, indulge. He told us, in broken English, about the gorgeous girls he had.
Not that we were uninterested, but we wanted to see some of the sights before sinking into depravity. So, we told him no, but he persisted to the point where it got annoying, so we got angry and told him to get the hell away from us.
He did. A few minutes later I glanced away and saw the most extraordinarily beautiful woman I’d ever encountered, sauntering toward us. As both of us stared with bulging eyes, she walked close, gave us a big smile, and moved on past. We watched her go (wonderful view from the back too). When we turned back, there was the pimp, smirking at us with a “I told you so” expression.
Ah well, we probably could not have afforded her anyway, but some 50 years later I still remember that gorgeous lady (of the night).