London. I was sitting in a cafe trying to read a book. Two guys sat down at the table next to me and started talking. I couldn’t concentrate on my book. Their conversation was too interesting. They were talking about London and their obviously very wealthy friends, talking about helicopters, luxury safaris, cars. One of the guys said, “I drive a piece of shit car. I prefer it that way. Nobody knows who I am. It’s nice to have nice things, but it’s nicer to do nice things.” His words made my day.