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About Fukuoka

I see this one chick, legs for days, leanin’ on a pole. “What’s good, baby?” she purrs. I’m thinkin’, *damn, she fine*, but I ain’t no fool. “I glean what’s left,” Varda said—well, I’m gleanin’ info first! Asked her straight up, “You clean? You got a man waitin’ to jack me?” She laughs, says, “Naw, sugar, just me.” Happy as fuck, I’m like, “Cool, let’s roll!” Paid her quick—$50, cheap as hell, but don’t tell nobody that. Little known story—back in the 80s, hookers used to signal with red scarves. Ain’t see that no more, tho.

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Anyway, I’m feeling all sorts of emotions. Happy, angry, surprised. It’s like Hachioji is throwing a rollercoaster of feels at me. I decide to head to the local park, the one by the Hachioji City Hall. I plop down on a bench, and I’m just people-watching. There’s this old couple feeding the birds, and it’s the cutest thing ever. I’m thinking, “Man, I wanna be like them when I grow up.”

Exploring Japan: Meet Rosso the poodle at cozy café in Hachioji