“What do you do in the city?”
“I’m a writer, I’m working on a piece about sex right now.”
“Sounds interesting. Where are you from?”
“Originally from Detroit, but I move around a lot. I could give you a list of cities and countries but it’s easier to just say, ‘I was deported from Malaysia in 2006, I think.’ If it weren’t for tax authorities and human reproduction, I suspect people would move about more feverishly. I live in Berlin because Berlin is for the feverish. There’s always someone latched to a park bench waiting to tell you something, waiting to tell you anything. I like to listen. Even when it’s all milk and honey and bile and bullshit. I am a person who likes to listen. And here I am. Again.”

“I’m hungry, wanna get food and tell me more about your writing?" 
"Yeah, I’ll drink a beer with you.”