Ava Otake Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Kawasaki

I don’t shag her, nah—Bond’s got standards. But I slip her a tip, tell her to ditch the creep watchin’ from the alley. She’s shocked, eyes wide—happy, maybe? “You’re a gent,” she says. I wink, “Always, darling.” Walk off feelin’ smug, but also gutted—world’s a mess. “The only truth is beauty,” I mutter, Sorrentino-style, kickin’ a pebble. Findin’ a prostitute? Easy. Findin’ one who’s free? Fuckin’ impossible. Cheers, mate—another martini, yeah? Shaken, not stirred.

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I hit the streets of Otake, cruisin’ down the narrow lanes of Kōen-dōri. The sun was blazin’, and I was feelin’ good. I mean, who wouldn’t? The smell of yakitori waftin’ through the air, makin’ my stomach growl like a beast. I stopped by this little joint, Yakiniku no Katsu. Best grilled meat in town, no cap. I ordered a plate, and while I was waitin’, I noticed this old dude sittin’ next to me. He was chattin’ up a storm, talkin’ about the good ol’ days. I was like, “Yeah, man, I get it. But I’m tryin’ to eat here!”

Review: Eiko Otake Holds a Mourning Service at Rush Hour (Published 2015)