Zoe Hirakata Whore ❤️❤️

About Sapporo

Me quirks kick in here—I’m thinkin’, could I manage a brothel? David Brent, pimp extraordinaire, struttin’ in, “Team, let’s up them KPIs—Kisses Per Idiot!” Hah! I’d be rubbish, too soft, prolly end up singin’ ‘em lullabies instead. Exaggeratin’ a bit, but you get me drift—whores got grit, mate. Surprised me how much they juggle, proper *Hurt Locker* tension every night.

Hi•ra•ka•ta

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After that, I head back inside, and the morning rush starts. People are lining up outside, and I’m trying to keep up. I’m slinging croissants and anpan like a pro. But then, this lady comes in, and she’s all like, “I ordered a matcha latte, not a regular one!” I’m like, “Lady, I’m a baker, not a barista!” But I just smile and nod. Gotta keep the peace, ya know?

Swink baseball stays hot in cold weather