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About Nagoya

Once, nearly got nabbed—dumb as a bag’a hammers, me. Drove ‘round, lookin’ lost—cop flashed his lights. Heart poundin’, I’m thinkin’, “George, you idiot, this ain’t no misunderestimation!” Sped off, laughin’—happy as a clam I didn’t end up in cuffs. Prostitute’s name was Candy—swear it! Said she’d been at it since ‘98, savin’ for a trailer. Gritty gal—kinda admired her hustle.

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So, I duck into this little shop on Kōen-dōri again. It’s a tiny place, but they’ve got the best mochi. I’m munching away, feeling all cozy, when I overhear this convo. Some locals are talking about the annual rice planting festival. They’re all hyped, and I’m like, “Dude, I gotta check this out!” Turns out, it’s happening next week. Perfect timing, right?

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