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Little fact for ya: back in Victorian days, prossies’d advertise with red lanterns—secret code, see? Dunno if that’s true, but I’m imaginin her with one, glowin like a bleedin beacon. “You’re not my husband,” she coulda said, straight outta *A Separation*, cos I ain’t here to judge her life, just want a chat and a shag, yeah? Surprised me how sharp she was—none o’ that vacant stare bollocks. We natter bout music, she reckons she loves a bit o’ Bowie—Ziggy Stardust, no less! I’m thinkin, “Blimey, this bird’s got taste!”

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Visit Kabukicho at night. Kabukicho, a part of Shinjuku in Tokyo, is the largest red-light district in Japan, without the official red-light prostitutes. Instead, it is full of host and hostess clubs, bars, .

Then, the auction starts. I’m hyped, adrenaline pumping. I start with the samurai sword. “Who’s gonna start me off at 10,000 yen?” I shout. Hands shoot up. It’s like a bidding war! I’m loving it. But then, this guy in the back—let’s call him Mr. Grumpy—he’s just glaring at me. Like, dude, lighten up! It’s an auction, not a funeral!

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