The kid downstairs. He helps me with this project you’re looking at.
Marvellous with a computer, but when it comes to matters of life, he’s a little wet behind the ears.
He decided to go on a holiday in Tokyo. Fine I said. You’ll have a blast. Wonderful people. Remember to lay off the Sake and don’t pour your own tea.
When I got back to London I found the kid was still not home; just a letter.
He met a girl, Sui, and she was clearly teaching him more than just how to hold his chopsticks. The warning bells rang like Japanese gong. Sui’s father owned a love inn - a place where you can go and “rest” by the hour.  I guess people must get drowsy at short notice over there. She said the kid could stay there with her for nothing, if he paid for a few things; like food, cigarettes, the odd drink or two, clothes, her parking fines and eventually her university course. Luckily I got there just in time. Sui’s hospitality dried up pretty much the same time as the kid’s traveller’s checks. He also failed to notice Sui’s “father” was barely ten years older than her.
Oh well, I guess you have to learn somehow. May as well learn with a Japanese Britney Spears lookalike.