A story a friend of mine from the UK told me...
I'm from the UK. My best mate from uni moved to Japan a few years ago for work, he's settled down there and married a nice Japanese girl. Whenever he's been back over, he's always invited me to come and visit them, and this year I finally had the chance.
The flight over was great, the ride from the airport amazing with all the sights. The trouble started when I got to his house.
After greeting my friend and his wife, and unpacking my stuff in the guest room, I made a trip to the bathroom.
In the UK, toilets are unremarkable and utilitarian in nature. Not in Japan. This was a hi-tech throne that looked like it could transform into a robot. Amazed as I was by this, I was tired and my need was urgent, so I sat down and got to business.
It was when I reached for the toilet paper that I realised my mistake. There was none.
I looked around, and found nothing suitable. So I looked more carefully at the hi-tech lavatory I was seated upon. There were four discreet push buttons, with writing in Japanese for each.
At this point, I should have called for help, but we English are a reserved lot, especially when it comes to our ablutions. Pride would not let me do it.
Hesitantly, I tried the first button, and was pleasantly surprised by a warm jet of water that cleansed my nether regions. This left me clean, but damp. And so, I tried the second button. A warm and gentle wind dried my bottom.
I was so pleased by this experience, that I decided to try the third button... and passed out in screaming agony.
As I awoke in the hi-tech Japanese hospital, I found my friend and his wife anxiously sitting by my bed.
"What was the third button?" I asked, my voice weak with pain.
My friend's lovely Japanese wife blushed, leaned in close, and whispered softly in broken English, "Automatic tampon removal."