“It’s a steal at thirty-five hundred,” the salesman said.“Thirty-five hundred! Who’s doing the stealing? You or me?” Dexter asked not sure...that he heard the man correctly.“It’s a high end sport bike,” the salesman said.“Let’s go down a little in price,” Dexter said.The salesman said, “We have this double-butted chromalloy frame and carbon fork ride, for only a grand.”“Only a grand?” Dexter said.“It’s a twenty-seven speed bike with grippy dual-pivot brakes for maximum control and stopping power.. I’ll probably lose my job over this,” he said feeling depressed.“How about some ice cream?” she asked.She knew that ice cream was one of his comfort foods. She remembered that time when he had shot a kid. He had come home after being suspended. She had never seen him so depressed. He was upset about the suspension, but more than that he was sickened at having shot someone. She had greeted him at the door with a bowl of chocolate ice cream and listened to him vent his feelings. They had both. There are bathhouses in trendy Shinjuku which attracted the young, hip and hot Japanese boys, but in the late '80s, no foreigners were allowed. Needing to get a load off after long work days, I eventually found my way to 24 Kaisha Kan...and to sex heaven.The clientle was a very "mixed" bag: regular blue collar guys, suit-and-tie salary men, Yakuza (Japanese mafia guys with the tattoos), daddies, chubs, young girlie boys and the occasional foreigner. The ages ranged over a wide spectrum. And the. I can do my job, but I'll need help for a day or two, someone to show me the way from one class to another, make introductions, those sorts of things. I'm sitting in front of you right now because I thought you should know about my memory loss. Frankly, I would prefer keeping my problem a secret; it's embarrassing. But keeping it secret would be impossible."He closed his gaping mouth and said, "Maybe you should take some time off until you get your memories back."I raised an eyebrow. As Aaron.