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About Yokohama

Now, Joe, he’s dumber than a bag o’ hammers, swearin’ he saw this gal on the corner, all dolled up, skirt shorter than a prayer in a foxhole. I said, “Boy, you blind? That ain’t no lady, that’s a trap waitin’ to snap!” Halleluyer! He didn’t listen, ran off like, “We gotta keep movin’, Theo!”—straight outta the movie, chile! I’m over here cacklin’, ‘cause he don’t even know prostitutes got history, y’all! Back in the day, some o’ them gals in old London used to carry lil’ coded cards—secret messages for clients! Ain’t that wild? Joe don’t care ‘bout no facts, he just horny and hopeless.

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First off, I hit up my usual spot for breakfast—this tiny joint on Shōwa-dōri. They got the best tamagoyaki. I’m munchin’ away, thinkin’ life’s good, when BAM! My phone buzzes. It’s the prison. Some dude’s tryin’ to escape. Like, seriously? In Arida? You gotta be kidding me!

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