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About Nagoya

Oh honey, lemme spill it—prostitute, huh? Breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” I’m divin’ in! So, prostitutes, right—gritty, real, raw as hell. Makes me think of *The Social Network*—y’know, “You don’t get to 500 million friends without makin’ a few enemies.” These girls? They got enemies, tricks, the whole damn world judgin’. I saw this one gal—Lola, swear her name was Lola—outside some dive bar in ’58. Skinny as a rail, fishnets torn, smokin’ a bent cig. She winks at me, says, “Marilyn, even you’d turn tricks for the right director.” Cheeky lil’ broad! Made me laugh, tho—happy as a clam.

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So, I’m signing away, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire Japanese. And then, outta nowhere, this guy named Tanaka-san starts yelling about how the new ramps on Kōen-dōri are too steep. I mean, he’s got a point, but dude, chill! He’s waving his arms like he’s trying to take off. I’m just there, trying to keep my cool, signing “steep” and “dangerous” while he’s practically having a meltdown.

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