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Me, I’d prolly suck at it. I’d waddle up, all “Uh, hi, you workin’?” and she’d be like, “Get lost, pink blob!” Hahaha, rude! But srsly, some places, it’s all sneaky—like, ya gotta know the corner, the bar, the vibe. Once saw a dude in a shady alley, whisperin’ to some chick, and I’m like, “Is he orderin’ pizza?” Nope, hooker deal! Made me mad tho—why so secret? Just say it, man!

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So far, I've found a single good resource: Amy Stanley's study Selling Women: Prostitution, Markets, and the Household in Early Modern Japan, which uses legal cases, contracts, and .

As the sun sets, the festival lights come on. It’s magical. I’m standing there with Kenji, and we’re just soaking it all in. I realize, despite the craziness, today was epic. I mean, who knew a day that started with Mr. Picky could end like this?