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Anyway, we’re chattin, she’s leanin in my car, smellin like cheap perfume and danger—my kinda cocktail. “Life’s a game,” I mutter, quotin “Ten” again, and she rolls her eyes, “Then you’re losin, mister.” Ha! Burned me good, love a gal with teeth. Makes me wonder—fish don’t judge, why do we? She’s just swimmin her lane, survivin—respect that.

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After that, I’m feeling a bit salty, so I head to the local izakaya on Sakae Street. I order some yakitori, and let me tell you, it was fire! I’m munching away, and this old guy next to me starts chatting. He’s telling me about the Yokote Kamakura Festival. Apparently, they build these giant snow huts. Sounds epic! I’m like, “Dude, I gotta see that!” But then he starts talking about how cold it gets in winter. I’m like, “Nah, I’m good. I’ll stick to summer, thanks.”

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