“Mowdy!” she exclaims – that recently coined tour-slang contraction of ‘I’m out of here!’ to be said in a contrived American accent and gleefully used when your peers have to stay behind where the boredom is. I feel powerful. I’m with two sexually overt beauties and I have a huge Maori man to carry my things. We are in a gorgeous hotel and about to be whisked somewhere even more sumptuous. As the three of us line out past the guys, Russell gives Cucumber Girl a sly smack on the backside. My reaction is instinctive, perhaps buoyed by the still-simmering annoyance of his earlier offensive mutterings. I’m also annoyed with him for putting his d**k into my dream and making me enjoy it, which is confusing. I slap him around the head. It gives a good sound but isn’t that hard – just enough to se
