Women of the Night

S by profession is a qualitative researcher. It might sound fancy to most of you but what she really does is pass opinions about people she doesn’t know. (How I hate it when she reads me so well.)
For the past couple of weeks she has been doing some depth interviews (interviews with one person which extends for hours). Don’t ask for further details, as I have no idea. S and I have an unspoken rule- we don’t discuss our work at home. Ethics and all.
Anyways, all I did know was that she was interviewing all sorts of people at all sorts of hours and at places I didn’t know of (which would include most of Mumbai. Damn! I need to do a Bombay-tour or at least buy a map.). And all by herself. I duly expressed my concern regarding the safety of it all.
One evening as we settled ourselves in front of the TV she said that the guy she had interviewed that day was a goon.
‘A goon!’ I exclaimed. ‘How do you know?’
‘The neighbours,’ she said. ‘The neighbours know everything.’
‘I wonder what our neighbours think of us,’ I said dreamily.’
‘They probably think we are prostitutes, what with the hours we keep.’