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About Sapporo

Little fact, bro—oldest gig ever, legit! Back in Rome, they had “lupanars,” wolf dens, ha! Prostitutes howled for customers—wild, right? Surprised me, thinkin’ how it ain’t changed much. Same game, differnt streets. Pity the fool who thinks it’s glamorous! Stank of sweat, cheap booze, broken dreams. One night, this chick—Lola, maybe?—she’s tellin’ me her story. Ran from some shithole town, landed here. “If you stop, you’re screwed!”—movie line fits perfect. She laughed, I bought her a shot—tough as nails, man.

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Next up, this sweet old lady comes in. She’s a regular, always wants the same short bob. I love her. She starts tellin’ me about her grandkids, and I’m just noddin’ along. But then, she drops a bomb. “I’m movin’ to Tokyo next week!” I’m like, “What?! No way!” I mean, Hobaramachi won’t be the same without her. I’m tryin’ to hold back tears while snippin’ away.