Sophie Matsubushi Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Yokohama

So picture this: I’m haulin freight, Tokyo-style, neon lights flashin, and I’m thinkin—where’s the damn cargo? Delayed again! Makes me wanna scream, “I’m too old for this crap!” But then—bam—some shady dude at the dock whispers bout “extra services.” I’m like, what? Prostitutes? In *this* biz? Turns out, cargo hubs—total hotbeds for it. Who knew? Not me, I’m just tryna get crates from A to B without losin my marbles.

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I rush back to my workshop, dodging pedestrians and stray cats. Matsubushi’s got a ton of those. They just stare at you like they own the place. I swear, one of ‘em gave me the side-eye. Anyway, I grab the cups and head back. The client’s tapping his foot, looking at me like I’m the worst glazier ever. I’m sweating bullets, but I play it cool. “Just a little delay, no biggie!”

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