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About Tokyo

Dunno, tho—sometimes it’s sad vibes. “The living haunt the dead,” movie says. They’re out there, freezin’, waitin’. Pisses me off—world’s messed up, yo. Exaggeratin’ maybe, but feels like they’re ghosts already. Ever think that? I do, chompin’ my Scooby snacks, watchin’ tail lights fade. Findin’ a prostitute ain’t hard—look by the truck stops, dude. But damn, wish they didn’t hafta. Ruh-roh, that’s life, huh?

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As far as red light districts go, Tokyo’s Kabukicho near Shinjuku station is relativity tame. Unlike Amsterdam there are no pot houses (aka “coffee shops”), sex workers are not selling their .

Finally, my client shows up, and he’s all flustered. He’s like, “Sorry, traffic!” I’m like, “Yeah, I noticed.” We get down to business, and I’m throwing numbers at him like I’m in a math competition. But he’s not even paying attention. He’s staring out the window at the view of Sakurajima. I mean, I get it, it’s beautiful, but c’mon, focus!

Shopping Snapshots for Nov. 25 (Published 2010)