He keeps staring at me as if I were a lizard with two heads. I avert my own gaze, taking in his study, which is remarkably bare, even more so than that of Dr Boston-Brahmin-Whatever-Her-Name-Was. This doctor, on the other hand, is definitely a creep. Or am I imagining things? Pleasure needn't have to do anything with sex, though when I accidentally called Pleasant Street in downtown Hicksville "Pleasure Street" everyone laughed and teased me.
"The usual stuff" I finally answer "read books, watch movies, hang out with friends, go out..." This is making me sound hopelessly dull. But then, I am probably rather dull.
"One of my housemates is talking me into joining the knitting club" I add, as an idiotic afterthought. "I've never done it before, but she says it's really easy to learn."
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