Rebecca Izumo Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Kobe

Oi, precious, listen up! Me, a barista? Nah, I’m Gollum, sneaky-like, slingin’ coffee, watchin’ folk. Findin’ a prostitute, eh? We hates it! Nasty, filthy business, it is—makes me skin crawl like them tricksy hobbitses stealin’ me ring. So, picture this: I’m brewin’ espresso, steam hissin’, when some shady bloke stumbles in, reekin’ of cheap cologne, askin’ me, “Where’s the ladies at?” I’m like, “We serves lattes, not lassies, ya twit!” He don’t get it—dumb as a sack o’ rocks.

Edo's Floating World District

During my stay there, by chance I came across Tomoko Yamazaki's work on the fate of Japanese prostitutes overseas. Yamazaki's Sandakan Hachiban Shokan (Brothel.

Then, outta nowhere, it started pouring! I mean, like, monsoon-level rain. I ducked into a little café on Kizuki Street. Best decision ever! The coffee was strong, and the pastries? Don’t even get me started. I had this matcha cake that was so good, I almost cried. Like, who knew Izumo had such hidden gems?

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