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About Nagoya

Anyways, findin’ a prostitute ain’t all glamour, pal. It’s gritty, messy, like Monty’s spiral. “Fuck me? Fuck you!” – I’d yell that at the world, laughin’. Prolly exaggerate how tough I’d act, heh. In my head, I’m all cool, but really? I’d be a bumbling dope. Still, somethin’ thrillin’ ‘bout it – the chase, the danger. You ever tried it, bud? Tell ya what, it’d be one crazy night! D’oh!

15. A Global Red-Light City? Prostitution in Amsterdam as a Real-and-Imagined Place

But then, just as I’m finishin’ up, I hear this loud crash outside. I rush out, and there’s a truck that’s backed into a lamppost on Kōen-dōri. I can’t help but laugh. The driver’s just sittin’ there, lookin’ all confused. I mean, c’mon, dude! How do you not see a lamppost?

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