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I go up, say, “Hey, what’s good?” She’s chill, eyes me up, says, “50 bucks.” I’m like, “Damn, inflation hit *you* too?” She laughs—dry, no soul. Little known fact, tho—back in the ‘80s, prostitutes in Reno had a union. Swear to God, organized as hell. Benefits, dues, allat. This chick? Solo, no 401k, just vibes. Makes me sad, man, where’s the teamwork?

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Later, I met up with my buddies at the izakaya on Kōen-dōri. We ordered way too much food. Like, I’m talkin’ a mountain of yakitori and some bomb sake. We were laughing, joking, and just vibin’. But then, outta nowhere, my buddy Kenji starts a karaoke battle. I was like, “No way, not tonight!” But peer pressure is real, so I ended up belting out some old-school J-Pop. I’m pretty sure I scared away a few customers. Oops!