[he hadn't liked her joke again. Jan really didn't think it was her sense of humor -- this guy just had more conversational land mines than Sonoma County had vineyards. was his brother a lawyer? did a lawyer murder his brother? did his brother murder a lawyer? it was impossible to say.]

Nah, maybe not. I didn't see a sign out front that said you'd charge a hundred fifty to sit with your thumb in your ass.

[she took a swallow of the wine instead of commenting further, walking over to investigate the boxing ring and the skull decoration. nice. not like some kind of fucked up cult setting that someone built in an abandoned garage at all. she wonders what his pro wrestling name would be. if she was a pro wrestler, she'd definitely want her nickname to be Cleanout.]

Nice place.