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About Osaka

Hmmm, sex escort, you ask? Twisted, this world is! Like “Once Upon a Time in Anatolia,” dark it gets. Me, a telephone operator, yoda-style, vibin’. Seen some shit, I have! Escort gigs—wild they are, shady too. “Who’s there?” I’d say, calls comin’ in late. Dudes whisperin’, nervous as fuck—hilarious, it is! “Do or do not, there is no try,” I’d think. Pickin’ up girls, they’re tryna score. Once, this guy, total perv, asks for “extras.” Disgusted, I was—hung up, boom!

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Asakawa Street. You know, the one with the neon sign that’s always flickering? Yeah, that one. Grabbed a onigiri and a can of iced coffee. I was feelin’ like a boss. But then, BAM! I spilled coffee all over my shirt. Like, seriously? Who does that? I looked like I just survived a caffeine explosion.

Magpie Thrift ready for new beginning in longtime Broadway thrift shop space