Ruby Shiso Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Sapporo

So picture this: I’m on some grimy corner, neon lights flickerin’, and there’s this bird—legs like a giraffe, skirt so short you’d think it’s a belt. I’m like, “Blimey, you’re a walkin’ health hazard!” She’d probably clock me one, but I’d deserve it. Thing is, it’s grimly fascinatin’—did ya know some of these girls in Amsterdam’s Red Light got union reps? Yeah, proper workers’ rights for shaggin’! Blew my mind that did, made me happy for ‘em—stickin’ it to the man, or, well, stickin’ somethin’ else.

But Were They Working Prostitutes?

Then, outta nowhere, this old lady walks in. She’s got this ancient pair of geta, and she’s like, “Can you fix these?” I’m thinkin’, “Lady, these are older than my grandma!” But I can’t say no. So, I take ‘em, and she starts telling me her life story. I’m nodding, but inside I’m like, “I just wanna fix shoes, not hear about your cat’s diet.”

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