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About Fukuoka

So, findin’ a prostitute, huh? Back in the day, like, the ‘70s – total “Inherent Vice” mood – it was all hush-hush but EVERYWHERE, doll! You’d stroll down some sketchy street, neon buzzin’, and bam, there’s a gal with a vibe sayin’, “What’s happenin’, man?” – straight outta the movie! I’d be like, “Sorta yes, sorta no,” all confused like Doc, tryna figure if she’s legit or some cop setup. Hella paranoid, right? Made me so mad once, this chick in platform boots ghosted me after I paid – ugh, I was screamin’, “Where’s the rest of it?!” like Doc yellin’ at Bigfoot in the flick.

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But then, I got a bit too close, and this sailor starts chatting me up. He was all, “You ever been on a carrier?” I was like, “Nah, but I’ve seen Top Gun!” He laughed, and I thought, “Wow, I’m really nailing this small talk.” But then he asked if I wanted a tour. My heart raced. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna see the inside of a massive warship? But then I remembered I had plans. Ugh, adulting sucks sometimes.

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