6 November 2012
An actual conversation between my wife and I, via text messaging.
Just doing some laundry a mile from the hotel. Had veggie byriani next door.
We just watched Voyager and now I’m having a cup of tea.
There’s not a whole lot around here. I was hoping to spend money carelessly. Oh well.
I can help you with that.
An orgy of spending. My clothes are drying, hurrah.
Are you sitting in the launderette wearing nothing but your last pair of clean underpants?
They’re inside out and I have white ’emergency socks’, oddly striped, soles browned. A man named Hammer keeps asking me what time it is. It’s getting dull.
There’s a pair of the most fucked-up trainers [sneakers], likely abandoned, sitting next to me on a bench. Occasionally I catch a delightful whiff of shit.
Do you have a large kitchen knife super-glued to your hand?
All I could find in the shop was a nail extension kit. I look like a fat, pissed-off, Edward Scissorhands.
Once again I am jealous of your rock ‘n roll lifestyle. Isn’t everyone in America voting right now?