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We’re chattin’, she’s tellin’ me ‘bout this john who built her a table once—shitty table, wobbly as hell, but sweet, ya know? I’m crackin’ up, thinkin’ I’d make her a sturdy one, show off my skills. “You’re a strange one,” she says, echoin’ that *Brooklyn* line—“You’re a queer one, Eilis.” I’m happy tho—somethin’ real in this mess. Ain’t just a transaction, it’s a story. Still, I’m watchin’ her close—fool me twice, I’m done.

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Anyway, I shake it off and head to the famous Sandacho Fish Market. Man, that place is a riot! Fish everywhere, people yelling, and the smell? Whoa. I grab some fresh sashimi from this old dude named Mr. Tanaka. He’s got this wild mustache, like a walrus or something. I’m like, “Yo, Mr. Tanaka, this fish is bomb!” He just grins, showing off his missing teeth. Classic.