Her eyes fall to the coffee table in my living room, where I have three books stacked with a candle on top. “Do you even read those books?” “Nope,” I say. “It’s all part of the design and feel of the apartment.” “Ah, so you’re trying to portray intelligence when, in reality, there’s very little intelligence in this apartment?” “Pretty mu—” I pause, thinking about it. “Uh, no. There’s intelligence in this apartment.”
