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About Yokohama

I saunter over, cool as you like—gotta keep it smooth, right? “Evening, love,” I say, flashin’ that 007 grin. She’s all sass, “What’s yer poison, handsome?” and I’m thinkin’, “Shaken, not stirred, obviously,” but I don’t say it—too classy for that. Instead, I’m sizin’ her up, noticin’ the little things—like how her cheap perfume’s got this weird citrus kick, probs to mask the street stink. Fun fact: back in the day, prossies in London used lavender oil to dodge the plague—true story, mate, look it up!

Oriental Girls in Shiga Prefecture

I finally make it to the arcade on Takamatsu Street. It’s my happy place. I’m talking about rows of machines, neon lights, and the sweet sound of victory. I’m all about that fighting game life. I drop some yen in, and boom! I’m in the zone. But then, this kid—like, 12 years old—totally wrecks me. I’m like, “What the heck, dude?!” I mean, I’m not mad, just impressed.