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About Yokohama

I tried it once, swear to Christ. Down on Route 9, this chick, hands like a goddamn angel—or a devil, dependin’ how ya look at it. She’s kneadin’ me, and I’m like, “This is fuckin’ heaven,” but then—surprise!—it’s more than I bargained for. Got me thinkin’, “I’m not just a number here!”—like Tony in the movie, ya know, not *my* Tony, the other guy. Made me happy as hell, but pissed too, ‘cause I shelled out fifty extra bucks! Fifty! For what? A happy endin’? Fuckin’ robbery, but worth it, I ain’t gonna lie.

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After that, I head over to the Kanmaki Park. It’s usually chill, but today? Nah. There’s a festival or something. Food stalls everywhere! Takoyaki, yakitori, you name it. My stomach’s growlin’ like a beast. I grab some takoyaki, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, I see this guy drop his whole plate. I’m talkin’ a full-on disaster. I can’t help but laugh. Sorry, dude!

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