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About Nagoya

So, findin a prostitute—ain’t like parallel parkin, lemme tell ya! Takes guts, some sneaky know-how. Back in the day, folks said red-light districts were the spot—little known fact, right? Like, 1800s London, they had “disorderly houses”—fancy name for chaos! Now? It’s all shady corners, quick nods, or—get this—apps! Yeah, apps! Surprised me too! Thought it’d be all cloak-and-dagger, but nah, tech’s in on it. Made me happy—modern world, huh?—but pissed me off too. Where’s the mystery, man?

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So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m thinkin’, “Today’s gonna be chill.” But nah, life had other plans. I hop on the train at Sannomiya Station, and it’s packed! Like, sardines in a can packed. I’m squished between a dude with a massive backpack and a lady who smells like she bathed in soy sauce. Not the best start, ya know?

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