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About Yokohama

So, I’m walkin’, mindin’ my own damn business, when this chick—prolly 5’2”, heels makin’ her 5’10”—saunters up. “Hey, big guy, need company?” she purrs. I’m thinkin’, lady, I’d rather skin a bear with a spoon. “I don’t pay for that,” I grunt, deadpan as hell. She laughs, like I’m some chump. Pisses me off. Hate everything about it—fake giggles, cheap perfume stingin’ my nose. Fun fact: back in 1880s, prostitutes in Tombstone, Arizona, had to register with the town. Called ‘em “soiled doves.” Ain’t that poetic? Still stinks like desperation.

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Later, I had to run to the bank on Kōen-dōri. The line was insane! I mean, come on! It’s just a bank! I was standing there, tapping my foot, thinking about how I could be at home binge-watching my favorite show instead. Finally, I get to the counter, and the lady is super nice. She even complimented my shirt. I was like, “Thanks! It’s from a thrift shop!”

Anita Marie Okazaki Obituary (1955 - 2024) - Hagatna, Guam - Pacific Daily News