At the movies, a man crouches in the aisle and talks to a woman seated in the aisle seat. Then he floats between the seats and I see he is not crouching, but is a dwarf. The woman is much older than he is or he is magically preserved. He has beautiful skin and shining hair.
I go for coffee after in a shopping center where underwear models parade on a catwalk. I see just one from the escalator. She looks sleepy and perfect. I notice what I should notice -- high heels, high-cut underpants, push-up bra -- but I do not credit the shoes or the underwear. This is where I fail.
And I do not ask myself whether I should call him a dwarf or call her a model. In this, I also fail, when I look at it now on paper. But the important thing is that he, and not she, sat directly in front of me at the samurai movie today.