"You don't know me, but I tell you. I'm not a jealous man. I've always - how do you say (entertained, no?) entertained romantic notions, part Shelley, part Sartre," says the Spaniard, his Trilby down low, the slick brim pushed over his eyes. We haven't met an intellectual hermano since we last saw Alejandro in Hull. We're at the bar, of course, sitting on spinning stools - it's all black lights and shadows. "But she sat by my side and asked for my help writing messages to half a dozen other men: how old are you, do you have a girlfriend, &c. Her English isn't very good you see. But that's when I first felt it. Thailand - it is so real as to be surreal. It gets a bit much, no? I don't think I can handle it. Maybe I'll go somewhere else."

(Epileptic Valentines #4)