Charlotte Minamishibetsucho Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Tokyo

What pisses me off? The fakes—dudes posin’ as pimps, tryna scam you. Had me hollerin’ once, “You ain’t foolin’ nobody, son!” But the real ones? They’re pros—quiet, quick, no drama. Surprised me first time, how chill it was—like orderin’ takeout. “What’s your name?” I’d ask, half-expecting “Apple” or some movie shit. And she’d smirk, “Does it matter?”—damn, that’s cold, right outta Anatolia’s script, “Truth’s buried deep, boys.”

The red-light district of Shinjuku

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 decided to shake it off and head to the Minamishibetsucho Museum. It’s got some cool stuff about the town’s history. I was feelin’ all cultured and stuff. But then, I got lost. Like, how do you get lost in a museum? I ended up in the gift shop, and I swear I spent way too much on a keychain. But it was cute, so whatever.