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About Sapporo

I roll up, window down, heart poundin like a drum. She’s all, “Hey, sugar, you lost?” and I’m laughin inside—lost? Hell, I been lost since ’92! “How much?” I ask, tryin to play it cool, but my voice cracks like a damn teenager. She throws a number, and I’m shocked—$50? What in tarnation? Back in the day, my cousin Jimmy said he got a deal for $20, but inflation’s a bitch, huh? “How’s that workin for ya?” I mutter to myself, countin crumpled bills.

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After that, I decide to hit up the Nagai Art Museum. I’m all about supporting local artists, ya know? I walk in, and it’s like a whole new world. There’s this one piece that’s just a giant canvas splattered with paint. I’m staring at it, thinking, “I could’ve done that!” But then I remember my last attempt at painting. Let’s just say it didn’t end well.

past meets present in kenta nagai's industrially elegant watch store in tokyo