In Shinjuku, packed amongst the crowded streets of lights, Japanese pimps, and mayhem, there's a little place called Robot Restaurant. It's advertised around Tokyo by cars towing not so little robot ladies with not so little breasts. After descending a couple of floors to a reflective, neon tomb, sampling the meal, and having my brain almost short circuited by the overload of glow sticks, scantily clad women, and yes, dancing robots, it's a fair assessment to say that the price of admission wasn't for the food...
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