“This is my area,” I say. She stops at the bulletin board I’ve filled up with pictures of models posing with cars. All of them are women. She looks at me, a smirk on her face. “Nice pics.” “I just really like the cars?” I say with a fake wince. “Mm-hmm, yeah, all of these women have really, really nice . . . cars,” she says, then bursts out laughing so hard she snorts, and, oh my god, I love her. I mean, not really, but still.
