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About Kawasaki

So, last week, I’m out, tryna find a prostitute, right? This chick, she’s leanin’ on a lamppost, skirt shorter than my temper. I’m like, “Oi, love, you workin’?” She smirks, all sassy, “What’s it to ya?” Made me laugh, that did—proper cheeky! Got me thinkin’ bout Haneke’s line, “It’s not about the punishment.” Nah, mate, it’s about the game, the chase, the vibe. Dr. Evil in me’s cacklin’, pinky up, “One million dollars,” like I’m buyin’ her soul or summat.

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Did she deliberately pick her profession of prostitution? I don't think many sex workers would tell us they chose it as their living. Did Rahab.

Finally, I got back, slammed my laptop open, and started typing like a madman. I was so focused, I didn’t even notice the time. Next thing I know, it’s dark outside. I missed dinner plans with my friends. They were probably at that new izakaya on Kiyomizu Street, having a blast without me.