Thanks.Thanks." "Thank *you*." she murmured under her breath, and I wondered what that was supposed to mean as I followed her to her apartment. As I walked into Jenny's apartment the first thing that hit me was the all-permeating odor of catbox. It wasn't too bad, though. I used to have a cat myself, so I was used to it. The place was fairly small, with a kitchen in an alcove off to my right and a short hallway to the left leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. In front was the living room. There was a couch and a couple of well-worn chairs. A small TV sat on a none-too-steady stand opposite the couch and chairs. The place was clean, but cluttered. Magazines and various articles of female clothing lay scattered about. Jenny began picking up the latter while mumbling an apology. I remarked it looked lots better than my place, which didn't comfort her much since she saw what my car looked like and could well imagine what my place must look like. She was probably right on the money. |