Frederic Malle “Carnal Flower”; Piano and Stories by candlelight; a shattered, lost iPhone; the fly-by urinal; walking through the city in rubber shoes (very high heels), unbalanced by gusty winds and rum cocktails (additionally spiced rum- neat with a black cherry and a slice of orange); a perfunctory dinner of squid ink tagliatelle at Popolo with a soberingly subtle white; serious diners communicating to harried waitstaff in significant looks; jovial patrons designated to the al fresco tables ignoring their bored purebred companions, yawning on the concrete courtyard; the mise-en-scene lit by the neighbouring Lexus dealership; spoon-bending excavation of hardened (melted and refrozen) Messina Sachertorte & Pannacotta gelato; not an atypical evening living ‘le temps d’une fête’.