I am in New York, staying in a hotel room that has two floors. Strangely, it also has a door on each level. One night, I go out for a walk. I walk along the west side of Central Park, and there is no street lighting. I suddenly become a little spooked, and I turn back. At a crossroads, there is a stairway down into the ground. I walk down it, and am faced with a closed underground station. I return to my hotel, entering by the upper floor, and go to sleep. The next day, I go out looking for informal work. My search takes me to outside the Sauchiehall Shopping Centre, which is replaced by Frasers' department store. I am asked to - as one of six similar employees - stand outside the shop wearing a Santa Claus outfit. I do.