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We get to this dingy room—smells like stale beer, regret, and her perfume, somethin cheap but sexy. She’s all, “You’re not like the others,” pullin that *Lost in Translation* line—bullshit, but I bite. I’m thinkin, *This is my Tokyo, my fleeting connection.* Greed’s hummin—wantin more than I paid for, pushin limits. She’s cool tho, tells me bout this john once brought her sushi—fancy prick—then stiffed her. We laugh, I’m like, “Sushi guy’s a dick, I’m cash upfront!”

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I order a full Scottish breakfast. I mean, how can ya resist? Haggis, black pudding, the works. I sit down, and as I’m munchin’, I overhear this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. Turns out, they’re fightin’ over who left the lights on. I’m sittin’ there, tryin’ not to laugh. I mean, c’mon, it’s not that deep!

Scots golfers given 'promise' as Open venue lined up for huge transformation