“Did you hear about Aaron’s girlfriend? Fuck me!” Yeah, people say some interesting things.

I’m walking up the east side of my village: pigeon town. There’s a bar there, ‘The Stoned Crow’. I think it’s a pun.

These people, friends of Aaron, I imagine, are sitting at a table that’s, like, on the footpath. They do not have sleeves, it’s one big fat shoulder convention. I worry that one of them will want to communicate with me because it’s past 9pm and I am on my own. I seem to be prey for this particular type of sleeveless male. “Maaate, what’s uuuup.” Yes, indeed, that’s excellent. I don’t know what’s up. Dear lord, what do you people want from me? What words can I say to you so that you don’t say any more words to me?

I continue walking, up the street, a few things are still open. One of them is a bakery. Some things are cheaper after 5pm, because they’re getting a little bit skanky. A plan forms, quite quickly. Moments later I return to the group of shoulders, holding a vanilla slice.

“It’s for Aaron. I heard about is girlfriend.”