“Excuse me? Yes, they are.” “Is that what the deed says?” He picked up a dirty plate from the water-filled sink, leisurely scrubbing. “It’s what my mouth says.” “Your mouth just spent forty minutes talking about Meat Loaf.” He scowled at the bubble-coated plate he was cleaning. “It’s obviously only good for one thing, and that thing ain’t an appropriate topic for conversation.” “You’re unbelievable!” I screeched. “You’re incoherent,” he slapped back. “I don’t know why I gave you my virginity.” “If it makes you feel any better, I think I deserved it even less than that Grammy.”
