(How do I say, in polite Japanese, “I’m not a damned American”?)
The Japanese don’t understand ceilings. Todays cafe had a lone bicycle chained to theirs.
On the next table sat an irritatingly upper middle class father/son reunion. They were difficult enough to ignore with their holiday homes in France and hatred of the Welsh working class, but then “You don’t know how difficult it was when you went to Tonbridge”.
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