Well, well, well, I take it back - our homeless friend does have a job. I asked him, but he said it was a secret. So I asked Kogo later, and it turns out we have a whore living in our sitting room.
Oops sorry, I should say "male host" or something. So that would explain why he's asleep half the day and then goes out only for a couple of hours between 10 and 12 at night to "work" and yet can afford to live in central Tokyo. Ever since Kogo told me this I crack up every time he mentions the guy's name - I can't take this blond bimboy seriously knowing he's out shagging desperate young Japanese girls every night. There's so much potential for fun here:
"Oh, you look tired! Hard day at the office?"
And it turns out that the Vitamin C shower contraption belongs to him! One day he said "Kogo, do you mind if I change the showerhead?" and that's what appeared! And apparently he doesn't go out if his hair is looking wrong. What a LOSER!!
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Well, if you want a whore in your living room, you're welcome to have this one.
I can't wait till he's gone, actually. In principle, I don't care what his job is as long as he's not hurting people. And Kogo tells me that from what he's heard, he's a more genteel whore than the average. But nevertheless there is a seedy atmosphere that clings to him and it's palpable. I just really don't like HIM, full stop - he just mooches around like a slob and kind of looks at me as if to say "what are you doing here?" when he should have left a week ago already.
And yes, he genuinely said his job was a secret. He came back last night with a black-haired wig to conceal his dyed hair. He wouldn't say why, just that he went somewhere where his hair would have looked out of place. He refused to say more. What a twat. So, what? You're fucking some big executive in the business district? What do I care?
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