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Oh fuck, he knows I call him a dick as well. We all call him a dick because he’s a dick. The way I see it, if you don’t want people calling you a dick, you shouldn’t be a dick.
I give her a look. “I know it’s a celebration of consumerism, Tiff. But in case you haven’t noticed, you work in a shop. Consumerism is our whole deal.” “That doesn’t mean we have to support it,” Tiff insists. “It kind of does.”
In any case, even by rented flat standards it’s a bit spartan—okay very spartan, so spartan I could probably hold it against a whole army with just two hundred and ninety-nine other fellers.
Somehow, I don’t stab him with a fork. Partly because there isn’t a fork.
