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About Osaka

Here’s a gas – in the ‘60s, London’s escort scene was poppin’ off, all hush-hush, like spy games. Blokes in suits, birds in miniskirts, meetin’ in smoky pads. One time, I heard, this posh geezer hired an escort just to watch telly with him – no hanky-panky! What a nutter, eh? Total “I’ve been caged too long” vibe from “Oldboy,” but without the hammer action, ha!

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So, I’m setting up, and this lady comes up to me. She’s all flustered, waving her hands like she’s trying to take off. Turns out, she’s the main speaker. And guess what? She forgot her notes. I mean, c’mon! How do you forget your notes for a speech? I was like, “No worries, I got your back.” But inside, I was like, “This is gonna be a train wreck.”