and

she is the one who shows up just before a major blizzard with a decent pinot noir, because sometimes you need to get next to a carbon-based life form of your own species and just bask in each others' radiation, playing cards and talking about nothing in particular until the Chili Peppers CDs are done, at which point you reach for some Eagles or maybe Bob Seger

verdict

as whiny high-pitched voices mock your every public utterance your fist slams the desk and your mind goes back to the idealistic child buried deep within the suit and the image who can't get his way but then for a split second you actually sense that it would not kill you to believe in the future