“I guess I forgot we were going out tonight.""We always go out on Fridays.""It's Thursday, Alvis.""You are so tied to routine.”

“I can’t go out tonight, because unfortunately I’m all tied up at the moment. I’m not busy, but I am kidnapped.”

“If I was going to go out tonight, I was going to go out fighting. Or screaming in agony. Either way.”

“So, so we have to beat it out of you or are you going to confess willingly, 'cause you know I'm into the whole torture thing. It's how I roll.”

“Going out? Are you going out? He's not going out? What do you mean he's not going out? Are you out here because you're still mad that they moved the Dodgers to L.A.? Are you going out or not? You're not going out? I guess you're not going out — huh? You mean go out parking in the evenings? Are you going out to park? Mr. Tepper, he asked at one point, did you ever — if you were in the middle of an interesting story in the paper or perhaps an interesting conversation with somebody who dropped in to talk to you while you were parking — notice that the meter had run out and therefore go out and put more money in the meter? If we're both keeping an eye out, what does it hurt?”

“Oh, yeah.” Carissa nodded. “They were googley-eyed in class on Friday. It was pretty steamy, the whole ‘I’mscrewing you with my eyes’ thing they had going on.” I choked on my drink. “That was not what we were doing. We were talking!”