Every evening she came home with a chocolate cake under her arm from Eppler's on Market Street. "Dinner," she explained, and, she wasn't kidding.
"How was your day?"
"Oh," she said, tired-sounding. "It was really good. All I had to do was stand around making copies." In response to my puzzled look she clarified, "At least I didn't have to learn anything new."
When she left she stiffed me for her back rent. But the thing that pissed me off was, she stole my silverware.