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About Yokohama

So, I’m out there, dodgin sketchy alleys—smells like piss and regret. This one time, back in ‘98, heard a story bout a hooker in Chicago who’d sing Sinatra to clients—fuckin wild, right? Little known fact: some of em got talents you’d never guess. I’m pissed tho—why’s it so hard to find one when ya need em? Like, c’mon, universe, throw me a bone! Then bam—there she is, leanin on a lamppost, all sass and cheap perfume. “Hey, sugar,” she purrs, and I’m like, “Well, hello, Clarice—kiddin, just kiddin.”

The Challenges Facing Red Light Areas in India

So, I’m back to work, and this guy’s still on the phone. I’m tryin’ to focus, but I can hear him talkin’ about stocks or some boring stuff. I’m like, “Dude, you’re in a barber shop! Get with the program!” Finally, he hangs up, and I finish the cut. He looks in the mirror, and his eyes go wide. “Whoa, I look fresh!” I’m like, “Yeah, bro, that’s what I do!”