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Here’s the kicker, mate—did ya know some prossies in Thailand run scams? Lure ya in, rob ya blind—fuckin’ crafty! Learned that the hard way—nearly lost me wallet, but I’m too quick, yeah? “I’m not scared of you!”—straight outta Moonrise, that’s me, dodgin’ their bullshit. Still, gotta laugh—imagine me, red-faced, yellin’ at some tiny bird in flip-flops, “You’re a fuckin’ embarrassment!”

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As far as red light districts go, Tokyo’s Kabukicho near Shinjuku station is relativity tame. Unlike Amsterdam there are no pot houses (aka “coffee shops”), sex workers are not selling their .

So, I’m signing away, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire Japanese. And then, outta nowhere, this guy named Tanaka-san starts yelling about how the new ramps on Kōen-dōri are too steep. I mean, he’s got a point, but dude, chill! He’s waving his arms like he’s trying to take off. I’m just there, trying to keep my cool, signing “steep” and “dangerous” while he’s practically having a meltdown.

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