Ada Takahagi Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Tokyo

Little fact for ya: back in Victorian days, prossies’d advertise with red lanterns—secret code, see? Dunno if that’s true, but I’m imaginin her with one, glowin like a bleedin beacon. “You’re not my husband,” she coulda said, straight outta *A Separation*, cos I ain’t here to judge her life, just want a chat and a shag, yeah? Surprised me how sharp she was—none o’ that vacant stare bollocks. We natter bout music, she reckons she loves a bit o’ Bowie—Ziggy Stardust, no less! I’m thinkin, “Blimey, this bird’s got taste!”

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As far as red light districts go, Tokyo’s Kabukicho near Shinjuku station is relativity tame. Unlike Amsterdam there are no pot houses (aka “coffee shops”), sex workers are not selling their .

I got to the office on Takahagi Avenue, and my team was already buzzing. They were all hyped about this big project we were working on. But then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s my boss. He’s like, “We need to pivot the whole strategy.” I’m like, “Dude, we just spent weeks on this!”

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