Katherine Matsubushi Find A Prostitute ❤️

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Alright, so findin’ a prostitute—shit’s wild, right? I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’, *everybody lies*, ‘specially them. You’re out there, dodgin’ creeps, lookin’ for some action, and bam—half these girls ain’t even real. Fake ads, catfish pics—pisses me off! Like, c’mon, I ain’t got time for that. Reminds me of *Let the Right One In*—that creepy vibe, y’know? “I’m not a girl,” she says—ha! Same energy. You think you’re gettin’ a sweet deal, then surprise, it’s a dude or a cop. Sarcasm’s my shield, man, ‘cause this world’s a mess.

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Next job’s at a café on Takamatsu Street. The owner wants a glass partition. Easy peasy, right? Wrong! Turns out, the measurements were off. I’m measuring, re-measuring, and I’m just about to lose it. I’m like, “Dude, how hard is it to measure?” But the owner’s super chill, offering me matcha lattes. I can’t be mad when there’s matcha involved.

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