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I walk over, heart thumpin—nerves, man! “Evenin, darlin,” I say, voice smooth as butter. She smirks, sizes me up. “What’s good, old man?” she fires back. Old man? Shit, that stings. I’m Morgan fuckin Freeman, narratin life itself! But I laugh, deep and rumbly, coz it’s funny—her sass, my ego, all tangled up.

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Anyway, I shake it off and head to the famous Sandacho Fish Market. Man, that place is a riot! Fish everywhere, people yelling, and the smell? Whoa. I grab some fresh sashimi from this old dude named Mr. Tanaka. He’s got this wild mustache, like a walrus or something. I’m like, “Yo, Mr. Tanaka, this fish is bomb!” He just grins, showing off his missing teeth. Classic.