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About Hsinchu

I saunter up, all charm, “shaken, not stirred,” voice smooth as silk. She’s givin me the eye—prolly thinks I’m loaded, which, fair, I look it. “How much, love?” I ask, casual, but inside I’m buzzin—happy as a pig in shit. She names a price, I’m like, “fuckin steep, that!”—but I play it cool, cos Bond don’t haggle like a twat. Fun fact: in Amsterdam, they got windows for this—legal, tidy, no messin about. Here? It’s a gamble, mate—cops, pimps, the lot.

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So, I’m chowing down, and suddenly, this dude bursts in. He’s all frantic, like he just saw a ghost or something. Turns out, he lost his wallet. I’m like, “Bro, chill. It’s just money.” But he’s all over the place, and I can’t help but feel for him. I mean, I’ve lost my fair share of stuff too.

Woman falls into platform gap at west Taiwan train station