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What pisses me off? The fakers, man. Some chick says she’s “independent,” but nah, there’s a pimp lurkin’. I wanna scream, “I must break you!” – bust that lie wide open. But then, you get a good one – straight-up, no BS, and it’s like, whoa, happy vibes. Surprised me once, this girl told me she paid her way through art school. ART SCHOOL! Blew my mind – didn’t expect that hustle.

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So, I roll into work at this little joint on Kōen-dōri, right? It’s a cozy spot, you know? The kind of place where everyone knows your name, and if they don’t, they’ll make sure to learn it after a few drinks. I’m just setting up, wiping down the bar, when this dude bursts in. He’s soaked, like he just swam the Mogami River or something. Turns out, it’s pouring outside. I mean, like, monsoon-level rain.

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