In this chapter, I begin with a short autobiographical piece about lying down in public places. This is followed by an exploration of the influences involved in the process of Lying Down Anyhow.
We sip from glasses of orange juice and half-pint lagers on a cool afternoon in autumn, a gentle rise and fall of conversation, and I nudge off my shoes to lie upon the cushioned window seat. From behind the bar, the landlord hurls himself towards me, his face as livid as the velvet beneath me. “Get up, get up, get out. This is a respectable establishment.”