An evening with a Chinese ambassador, a Chef and a Snake Charmer is unexpected.

The dates are closely timed. Each man wants me for himself.

A tour bus arrives to cheer the Snake Charmer. It's his best show. The great serpent speaks with the man's face. There is a disturbance of waterpools, a trapdoor flapping on its hinge.

Briefly-dressed, the ambassador's wife, layered in an oversized suit of bright red shirt with pink sequinned glittering pillowy blouse, compliments the Chef.

As made-up dolls speaking like the living is expected to and seems and does, we eat purple-goldish blooms from chairs made of hanging stones strung together.

It helps to choose a large restaurant where I can concentrate on the utensils' constructions, the many slant corridors, the low-lit wide rooms.