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About Yokohama

Da air’s thick, smoky, like Satine’s dressing room, ya feel me? “Come what may,” I mutter, dodgin’ creepy dudes hawkin’ wares. Den, outta nowhere—Lightbulb!—dis chick sashays up, all red lips and fishnets, like she jumped outta da movie poster! I’m tinkin’, “Dis is it, Gru, ya sly dog!” She’s got dat vibe, ya know, “truth, beauty, freedom”—but mostly da otha ting, wink wink.