Jasmine Myoko Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Tokyo

So, findin a prostitute? Wild, y’all. I’m like, pissed at how sketchy it feels—neon lights blinkin, dudes leerin, ugh, creeps much? But also, kinda hyped? The thrill’s real, like when I wrote “Bad Blood” after a fight. Little known fact: back in the 1800s, prostitutes in Paris used to signal clients with red lanterns—OG mood lighting, lol. Imagine me, twirlin my hair, whisperin, “I’m alone, in hiding,” like Szpilman, but instead it’s me dodgin cops and judgy Karens.

Landmark Onsen Café

The hotel features indoor, outdoor and private onsens, some of which are shared and some separated into male and female. There are also stone baths, wooden.

Finally, the lights flicker back on, and I’m like, “Thank you, Myoko gods!” But then I realize I lost track of time. I’m late for a meeting with a client. I sprint down to the station on Myoko Station Street, and of course, I miss the train. Classic.

In Japan's ski resort area of Myoko, trepidation as more foreign money pours in