Amanda and I were racing around the Loft in office chairs on wheels. Rather than scold us, a shop worker merely came over and wordlessly removed a breakable item from a desk.
In an Indian restaurant with Keith. A waiter handed me a tray with the bill, then waited until I paid. Lunchtime's over, I guess.
I'm looking at a natty looking sweater in a small shop. The clerk tells me it's 34000 yen. I wince, saying, I'm sorry but I don't think you'll have my size.
On the turntable: "Samba Bossa Nova"
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