I am in New York at a gigantic coffee shop.
In Paris, a café terrace, enormous. There are lots of people, especially Algerians, with a vaguely menacing air.
I forget my satchel on the terrace; there are 2,500 francs in it. I go back to get it; obviously, nothing. I am genuinely devastated. My only hope is that I am dreaming (I wake up, relieved).
I’m visiting a female friend (nothing between us, just friends). The actress M.D. arrives. She is a tall woman, pretty and cheerful, with long blond hair; she is naked under a light dress.
I begin touching her, caressing her “absent-mindedly.”
I wind up on top of her, fondling her bare breasts.
I make love to her.
Georges Perec, La Boutique Obscure, translated by Daniel Levin Becker, Melville House 2013