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Me quirks? I’d rather tweak a radio than chase tail, but the thrill’s temptin’, aye. Exaggeratin’ now – imagine me, cape flappin’, rescuin’ a prossie from some twat in a mask! “I’m not wearing hockey pads!” I’d yell, then trip over me own boots. Daft, but fun to dream. So, thou, what thinkst? ‘Tis a mad world, findin’ a prostitute – part jest, part tragedy, all chaos. Like Nolan’s flick, it sticks with ye, messy and loud!

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But then, bam! Outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, like, monsoon level. I duck into a café on Shōwa-dōri, and it’s packed. I’m soaked, looking like a drowned rat. I order a coffee, and the barista, this super cute girl, gives me a smile. I’m like, “Okay, maybe today’s not a total wash.”