At the end of a recent work trip, I flew to Japan for three days.

I’d been in Singapore on business and decided last-minute to pursue some meetings in Tokyo before heading back to San Francisco. It was my first visit to the bustling, high-rise city, and I had a great time: the food, the people, the street energy. There was another, more hedonistic reason I enjoyed myself, too.

On my second day, after multiple meetings, I decided to go straight back to my hotel. The idea was to grab some room service and then call it an early night. A couple blocks from the hotel, on foot, I came across a sign that had some Japanese script and the word BATH. There was a neon image of those squiggly lines meaning water. In my mind, I pictured a spa — Jacuzzis, plush towels, some soft Japanese music coming from... Read More