Ned isn't sure what he was expecting, but the carpet ad doesn't sound all that shocking to him. Then again, maybe you had to see it to understand. There's something about the way Ginsberg speaks - so freely, with such conviction in his opinions, and a certain tone of taking one into his confidence - that Ned quite likes. Charisma, he thinks. That must be what it is. Makes sense, in someone who makes ads: he knows how to make people want to listen.
Well, maybe not his blind dates.
"What's not to like? Pie's the single easiest way to make people happy. When it's not being thrown in your face, that is." He smiles, and it's lopsided and just a touch shy, "You're probably better off, if she liked Nixon and ordered lemon meringue." There's a hint of scorn in his voice, and he explains, "You make enough pie and serve it to enough people, you start to see patterns in what sorts of people order what sorts of pie. Lemon meringue is always risky."
They round a corner and are at the bar Ned had in mind: it's a quiet place, tucked away, with low lighting and a TV set playing with the volume low, behind the counter. There aren't a lot of people around at the moment, and no one Ned recognizes.
no subject
Well, maybe not his blind dates.
"What's not to like? Pie's the single easiest way to make people happy. When it's not being thrown in your face, that is." He smiles, and it's lopsided and just a touch shy, "You're probably better off, if she liked Nixon and ordered lemon meringue." There's a hint of scorn in his voice, and he explains, "You make enough pie and serve it to enough people, you start to see patterns in what sorts of people order what sorts of pie. Lemon meringue is always risky."
They round a corner and are at the bar Ned had in mind: it's a quiet place, tucked away, with low lighting and a TV set playing with the volume low, behind the counter. There aren't a lot of people around at the moment, and no one Ned recognizes.