Jack

I follow Amanda silently through her apartment; I say silently because I've just removed my Converse -- this is a strictly no-outdoor-shoes kind of place. There's even a trite sign and rack just inside the front door in case you forget. I don't mind, exactly. No, that's a lie. It gets right up my nose; I find it pompous when people insist you take off your shoes. It's not an Amanda-centric complaint though. It sets my teeth on edge whoever does it.

'You cooked?'

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