Today I walked past the window of a hut where a parrot sat on the shoulder of a seamstress bobbing his head with the ancient machine. I entered to get a secret pocket sewn in my britches, took them off and walked around in shirt as she stitched. A daughter stepped out of Playboy magazine and offered a massage for $5 to augment double the daily salary as a motorcycle mechanic that transpired in the mother´s bedroom. I strode out to find ma had sewn the secret pocket for my new digital in the front instead of rear as ordered, so it was back to the bedroom for thirty minutes more.