: Mist glides like specters, over the black asphalt of a heated sidewalk outside Mos Burger. 7-11 lunch browsing. The muzak rendition of “I Just Called To Say ‘I Love You’”; a 4 member band playing without audience in a hotel conference room sound. The man with the M-I-C-K-E-Y-M-O-U-S-E ringtone. Goodreads is the only social networking site I can access without getting I-filtered. The baseball boys chirruping in the hallway. I’m suggesting a movie. You suggest a matinee. It’s easy to view through the filter of Six Feet Under. Taking snowpants off on the bus appears indecent. The Teachers’ Union party for school nurses; beers and laughs. These ladies know how to party. I’m told what lurks behind the curtain: ups and downs, one girls bravery turns to ridicule and lawsuits. A cigarette box from Korea that looks like a camera. I have no reception down here. Took the elevator to send a text in a pair of striped yellow slippers. Taxi ride past a park; “Reminds me of Boston.” Two more beers at the Irish Pub in the station. ハフ＆ハフ、ハフ. Half (Guiness) and half (Ebisu beer), half pint. Pickles, vegetable, and a plate of ホットナチョ (hot nachos!). The Super Kamui ride, the ladies are amused that I wear long underwear. “You are from California.”
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