A bizarre sensation pervades a relationship of pretense. No truth seems true. A simple morning's greeting and response appear loaded with innuendo and fraught with implications. ... Each nicety becomes more sterile and each withdrawal more permanent.

Jack: Ah, bon soir. S'il vous plait, je voudrais un verre de lait au chocolat et une soupe de oignon et un sandwich avec... How do you say grilled cheese? [mumbled French on from the phone] Merci, exactement, merci beaucoup.