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About Yokohama

So, I’m trollin’ the alleys, wine in hand, thinkin’—where’s the fun at? This one time, I found a girl, right—swear she was a bloody vision. Hair like fire, smirk like she’d rob me blind. “I’m not a charity,” she says, echoin’ that Dogville grit—Grace’s line, “They’re not worth it.” Made me laugh, ‘cos she was worth every penny. Paid her double, just to spite the world. Happy as a pig in shit, I was—surprised too, ‘cos she didn’t nick my dagger.

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Kōen-dōri for my morning coffee. You know, the one with the best onigiri? Yeah, that one. I grab my usual—salmon, of course—and the cashier, this sweet old lady, gives me a smile. I’m like, “Aww, thanks, lady!” But then, BAM! I spill my coffee all over my shirt. Great start, huh? I’m standing there, looking like a hot mess, and she’s just chuckling. I mean, c’mon!

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