Mari Mihara Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Tokyo

Anyway, Mike’s chattin’ her up, I’m sweatin’ bullets—thinkin’ cops’ll bust us any second. She’s all cool, though—says her name’s Candy, probs fake, who cares? “Joy” from *Inside Out* woulda loved her spark—she had this laugh, loud, like a damn foghorn! I’m over here whisperin’, “Mike, abort mission, man!” He’s too far gone—grinnin’ like a fool.

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I flopped onto my bed, still smelling like soy sauce and fish. But you know what? I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Mihara, you crazy city, you’ve got my heart. Can’t wait for tomorrow!

Survivor of Japanese internment camp speaks at Asian American Cultural Center