With the private booths all occupied, Kira and I took seats while waiting. Conversation was made – she was very at ease with the art of interrogation. The same cannot be said for myself, so terrified at the prospect of what might lay beyond the heavy black curtain hanging over the entrance to the booth that I could only speak in stilted Edwardian tones.
The conversation took a turn as I accidentally insulted her and had to be comforted. Awkward and slightly soul-crushing as it was, the moment was swept quickly aside by a booth becoming available.
Taking me by the hand, Kira led me inside the chamber of woman.