The day is delicious. This is the very first really nice day in a long while. In the early afternoon I go to the hotel terrace, as is my habit on such days. There I meet Minke van Ingen and two of her Dutch friends, a man and a woman. Minke turns toward the woman and says proudly: “She is a disk jockey in Amsterdam!” I blurt out my response without a moment’s thought: “Jesus fucking Christ!” They all burst into laughter, and I take my leave with a faint bow. A short while later I feel the pangs. Poor old Jesus.