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So, I hit up Newark, shady spots, y’know? Where the lights flicker like they’re drunk. This chick, she’s standin’ there, leanin’ on a pole, skirt shorter than my patience. I roll up, window down, “Hey, sweetheart, you workin’?” She’s like, “Maybe, whatchu got?” I’m thinkin’, “I don’t even know anymore,” like Bill Murray mumblin’ to Scarlett Johansson. That line, “The more you know who you are,” yeah, it’s spinnin’ in my head, but I’m too horny to care.

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So, I roll into work at this little joint on Kōen-dōri, right? It’s a cozy spot, you know? The kind of place where everyone knows your name, and if they don’t, they’ll make sure to learn it after a few drinks. I’m just setting up, wiping down the bar, when this dude bursts in. He’s soaked, like he just swam the Mogami River or something. Turns out, it’s pouring outside. I mean, like, monsoon-level rain.

In Japan, a Visit to the Casio G-Shock Factory (Published 2023)