I'm in a London that is foggy and grey, and rather run-down. It is night, it seems I just arrived, and I walk down a lonely, messy street, and through a parking lot.

The only people I see are a rather large group of prostitutes, several dozen of them, who stand in a clump near a building off to my left. It seems odd that they are very nice and don't proposition me, just stand there looking. After I pass them, there are a couple other people in the street, and I feel like I might be getting into a dangerously seedy area, so I turn back.

Back in my hotel room, I'm talking to someone about our plans for the next day. What are we going to do, what to see? We identify a castle and a bridge (the "Wheatstone Bridge", an electronics reference), and we're trying to find them on the map.

It's hard to explain how this arrangement comes about, but my friend's wife is sitting with her back to me, as if on somebody's lap. I'm directly behind her, and I sort of incidentally slide my hand up her skin and realize when I touch the base of her breast that she is topless. I make some expression of embarrassed surprise at her, and she explains that she is away from her husband and her baby so she is going to have a good time. The implication seems to be that she expects me to be an intimate part of her good times, and I don't know what to say, because I wouldn't do that to my friend.