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Ey, Gabagool? Ova here! So, listen, I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ bout this broad, right, a prostitute, workin’ the streets like it’s nothin’. Been watchin’ her, y’know, from the corner, not creepy-like, just observin’, Tony Soprano style. She’s out there, heels clickin’, skirt so short you’d think it’s a napkin. Reminds me of that flick I love, *The Diving Bell and the Butterfly*—y’know, that French guy, trapped in his head, blinkin’ out his story? “I’m alive, but I’m stuck,” that vibe. This chick, she’s stuck too, but she’s movin’, hustlin’, dodgin’ cops like it’s a dance.

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Finally, the rain stopped, and I was soaked but happy. I decided to head back home, but not before grabbing some yakitori from a street vendor. I mean, you can’t leave Togane without trying the food, right? I was chowing down, and it was like a flavor explosion in my mouth.

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