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About Sapporo

But then—oh glory!—I stumble on a gem. Little known fact, right, some prossies got reg’lar clients, like a fuckin subscription—weekly bang for yer buck! This one chick, mate, she’s got a flat near Soho, proper discreet. Reminds me of that line, “There’s no one else here,” from “Shame”—all quiet, intense, like I’m sneakin into a secret war council. She’s fit, too—curves like the hills of bloody Kent! I’m chuffed to bits, heart poundin like a drumroll at Dunkirk.

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I order the spicy miso ramen, and it’s fire! I’m slurpin’ it down like it’s the last meal on Earth. Kenji’s laughin’ at me, but I don’t care. I’m in ramen heaven. Then, outta nowhere, the power goes out! Like, what?! The whole place is pitch black. I’m sittin’ there, noodles halfway to my mouth, and I’m like, “This is how I die.”

Gem hunting: A top Japanese activity more tourists need to know about