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About Nagoya

I roll up, talk to this one chick—call her Tasha. She’s cool, sassy, got a smirk that says, “I seen it all.” I ask, “How’s it work?” She laughs, “Motherfucker, you pay, I play!” Simple, right? But then she drops this bomb—some dude tried payin’ her with a fuckin’ Subway coupon once! I’m dyin’, man—Subway? For real? I’m like, “That’s a $5 footlong scam, motherfucker!” She’s crackin’ up too, but her eyes? Tired as shit. Makes me think, “How do you break this story wide open?”—straight outta *Spotlight*.

What do Japanese prostitutes do?

Then I get to the park, and wow, it’s packed. Families, couples, and this one dude playing the shamisen. I love that sound! It’s so traditional, so Togitsu. I sit down on a bench, trying to soak it all in. But then, outta nowhere, a kid runs by and knocks my bag over. Ugh! My notes go flying everywhere.

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