About the same time, a truck pulled up right next to me and a hot looking dark-featured guy rolled down the window. “Hey Josh, how’s it going?” ... knew right then I was going to follow this guy home. “Name’s Rick. It’s American for Enrique.” Beautiful accent and beautiful boy.We got to his apartment, which was sparse and it appeared he might be staying with a friend. He said he was from South America-- Brazil, in fact--and spoke with a silky beautiful Latin accent. This guy was reeking sexual. The screen in the next store fizzed to life offering coffee and a slab of cake for ten bucks. Just how I like it; hot, black and rich. That was the trouble with the city. Everything inescapably personalized, based on tastes and behavior and past purchases. No room to try anything new. Data drove everything. It was impressive and unnerving and I still didn't know which was greater.I jogged away from temptation, across the sun-baked street to the apartment building, though the place had more in. It seems as if they intend to trap me in another language but give me (at first) a very limited palate of words. However, I know psychology and I know that young children learn their own language just by listening. That's how I learned English and Swedish (my mother's language). If I can do it once, I can do it again. I will not let them confine me so easily!"Rabinya, Vyerka!" It's Neena's voice. I look up. Immediately I'm disappointed in myself. How could I have answered so easily to the name. Crouching or standing against the sides of buildings, keeping out of people’s way during rush hour as best they could, or huddled in alleyways, or just wandering around aimlessly and without purpose. They had nothing else to do. Most of them congregated in the city’s parks and wooded areas where they could avoid the foot traffic of the streets. The tourist would see no one at all interacting with the Banes. It was as though two different societies existed in the same space, hardly.