makes less of deal of it: hes the big brother. Davids always sick with something, I hate hearing him coughing all the time, it winds me up, and I cant work out if its the sound of the coughing that winds me up, or whether its anxiety, some sort of paternal love. Deep down, what annoys me is never being sure that Im good, but being absolutely certain that Im selfish.
A Brazilian businessman lights a cigar. You have to be mad to smoke at this time of the morning. I beckon the matre d, who rushes over to him since, like every other public space in the city, Windows is non-smoking. The guy pretends this is the first hes heard of it, pretends to be shocked, demands to be shown the smoking section. The matre d explains that hell have to go down to the street! Rather than stub out his cigar, the smoker gets up and does just that, sprinting toward the elevator; no doubt a matter of principle.