He says I should come back to the table and talk to him more, and blows me a kiss. I wink at him, like a playboy.
Tim, infuriated by the sounds of a mother playing with her baby, who wouldn’t be, poured a glass of water onto them from his balcony.
Nathan, whose greatest fear is that he’ll develop a resistance to Botox, returned from Frankfurt with the face of an inexpressive eight year old.
Kindly, she added that I shouldn’t be embarrassed, families can be strange. That much I know.
I discover that doing nothing is more fun than having nothing to do
He laughs. “I wish! I wish you’d fuck me.” He howls this into the night. He doesn’t care who hears. “Fuck you all!”
It’s all quite plush, for a sex room, newly built and well maintained. It’s better finished, by far, than my flat, and spotlessly clean.