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About Kyoto

Me? I’d be hoppin’ mad if I got dragged to one—ain’t my scene, doc! Too much sweat, too many lies. But I get the appeal—lonely folks, quick thrills, cash flyin’. Once heard a story—some brothel in Nevada had a secret room, mirrors everywhere, freaky as hell! Guy went in, came out screamin’—thought he saw his own ghost bangin’! “Who am I? Who was I?”—straight outta Oldboy, identity all screwed up, ha!

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I head over to the food stalls on Nakamura Street. Man, the smell of yakitori hits me like a freight train. I’m drooling. I grab a skewer, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, I see this guy drop his whole plate of food. I’m like, “Dude, no!” But he just laughs it off. I admire that.