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About Kyoto

Back in ‘09, mate of mine—total sleaze—swore by this trick. Said ya hit up truck stops, look for “lot lizards”—yep, that’s what they call ‘em! Cracked me up, but damn, it’s real. Girls knockin’ on cabs, $20 a pop. Blew my mind—grubby, desperate, but ballsy. Hated how he grinned bout it tho, like he’s some kingpin. “Gangsters don’t apologise,” movie line stuck with me—prostitutes tho, they ain’t gangsters, just caught in the grind.

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Then, I decided to check out the local shops on Nakamachi Street. It’s got this cool vibe, with all the little boutiques and cafes. I found this quirky shop selling handmade pottery. I picked up this cute cup, but then I dropped it. Ugh! It shattered everywhere. I was mortified. The shop owner just laughed and said, “No worries, happens all the time.” I mean, really? How clumsy can I be?

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