You mean you don't want to remember. Not likely you'd forget a trip like that, to a communist country before the Fall of the Wall. Forget the black market and the gypsy music and our time together. Illicit, all of it. And that's why you want to forget it.

Oh, Budapest.

I don't want to forget it. I loved it. We fought off the details of our real lives, the thoguht of Joe, with Moskovskaya and real Budweiser.

Do you think we would have had the joy if we'd had a future?