“Anyway, there was a soccer game on TV—” “Football,” I say, correcting him. I have no idea why. “Whatever. Anyway, he’s got this girlfriend, and her parents are in Czechoslovakia—” “I think you mean the Czech Republic,” I say, correcting him again. I realize I sound like a shrew, but I’m kind of a stickler for history. And geography. And … Oh my God, I suddenly understand why people call me Book Licker. “What?” he asks, crinkling his nose in confusion. Of course, I can’t just let it go. “The Czech Republic. Czechoslovakia hasn’t existed for almost twenty years. So unless her parents are
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