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About Tokyo

First off, it ain’t like orderin’ pizza. You don’t just yell “delivery!” and bam, there’s a chick at your door. Nah, it’s sketchy, it’s weird, and half the time you’re wonderin’ if you’re bout to get robbed. Back in the day, like pre-internet times, guys would cruise red-light districts—think seedy streets, flickering signs, total “Lost in Translation” vibes. “What am I doing here?” you’d mutter, feelin’ like a ghost in your own damn life. Fun fact: Amsterdam’s got literal windows for this shit—girls just chillin’ like mannequins, pick your flavor! Wild, right?

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But then, I got a bit too curious. I asked her about the best ramen in town. She pointed me to this hole-in-the-wall place on Kōen-dōri. I was like, “Let’s go!” But when we got there, it was closed! I was so mad! I mean, how can a ramen shop close in the middle of the day?

Time-of-Day-Dependent Physiological Responses to Meal and Exercise