" Mr. Morganthal shuffled out of the elevator and winked at me. “Hey, hootchie-mamma,” he said. “Want a hot date?” He was ninety-two and lived on the third floor, next to Mrs. Delgado. “You’re too late,” I told him. “I’ve already made plans.” “That’s just as well. You’d probably kill me,” Mr. Morganthal said. "