“There´s nothing I have to do. And nowhere I have to be. With no destination, no map, and no agenda. I´m free to just wander.”

“Walked without a destination. Explored without a purpose.”

“Abigail,’ he says. ‘I thought it was you.’‘Hi!’ I say loudly. ‘Mark!’‘Who?’ says Robert. Fuck, he doesn’t know his real name. Why do I give everyone stupid nicknames?‘I almost don’t recognise you out of your SKINNY JEANS,’ I enunciate carefully. He’s wearing grey flannel trousers and a pink T-Shirt with leather Converses. He speaks clothes exceptionally confidently for a straight man. I wonder if he’d take me shopping.‘Oh, right. Got it.’‘That’s odd,’ says Skinny Jeans. ‘Since I was wearing nothing at all when you left my room without saying goodbye . . . let’s see, seven weeks ago?’‘Um, yes. Well, you know . . .’ I trail off. Come on, Robert, I think desperately.‘I’m sorry, were you planning on making me breakfast in bed?’ says Robert. Yes! Make a joke!‘I’m sorry, were you planning on making me breakfast in bed?’ I say.Skinny Jeans grins.‘Scrambled eggs? Toast? On a little tray?’‘Scrambled eggs? Toast? On a little tray with a rose on it?’ I say.‘Don’t fuck with my script,’ says Robert, which makes me grin slightly more broadly”

“That’s the spark I’ve been looking for. The spark is the feeling that you were born to be this happy. And that’s how I feel right now.”

“The French have the perfect word for it: ‘ flâneur’.It means to strol around aimlessly but enjoyably, observing life and your surroundings. Baudelaire defined a flâneur as ‘a person who walks the city in order to experience it’.As Plum would say, I’m flâneuring like a motherfucker.”

“Lick hand. Sprinkle salt. Do the shot. Suck the lemon.”

“The spark is the feeling that you´d rather be talking to him than any other person in the world.”