" Hell if I know. I’m twenty-six, single, just signed a year lease on an apartment…” She touched her eyebrows with her fingertips. “Damn, why did I move back here?”
“Sorry.” I grimaced. “The job market isn’t as bad as it was. I’d give you a job if you really needed one.”
“Thanks. Not sure how good of a bouncer I would be.”
“Maybe hair holder for drunk girls.”
“Sounds great,” she said flatly then made a gagging sound. "

― Nicole Castro , The Disintegrated House (House collection, #2)