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About Kobe

Me, I’d stroll in, all suave— “Ladies, Austin’s here!” Probly trip over a rug, tho, clumsy git. Love the chaos, the buzz—makes ya feel alive, like Monty dodgin’ fate. “The best is over,” he moans, but nah, brothel’s got life, pulse, soul! Smells like cheap perfume and regret, sure, but it’s honest, y’know?

The price tags and perils of being a prostitute in Shinjuku

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After that, I’m tryin’ to salvage my petunias, and guess who shows up? My neighbor, Mr. Tanaka. He’s this old dude who thinks he knows everything about gardening. He starts lecturing me about how I should’ve planted them deeper. I’m like, “Thanks, Mr. Tanaka, but I didn’t ask for a gardening seminar.” He just chuckles and walks away. I mean, c’mon!