Excerpt
She looked around the tawdry room and said, “Can we go somewhere with less roach appeal?”
“Madam,” I said. “I do not know where you hail from, but such remarks are rude and insensitive. Sawbucks is a fine establishment. Offering freshly made coffee and nutritional Tombstone pizzas, warmed right on the premises in yonder broiler.” I pointed to the rusty, filthy, crumb-laden broiler oven on the counter behind Quentin.
“Oh,” she said, eyes widening as if she realized she had made a verbal error. “I did not mean to besmirch this fine establishment. I have no idea what came over me. Imagine, me speaking that way about a germ-infested den of iniquity like this. Now get up and let’s go somewhere for coffee. We need to talk.”
“How about I take you to dinner this evening and we can talk then?” I gave her my best bad-boy smirk. Then my heart-melting smile. I stood so she might catalogue my lean, hard physique.
“I would not go out and eat with you, if I were starving and you had the last turkey leg on earth.”
Sean got up quickly, unsuccessfully stifling a chortle, and went to the jukebox.
I sat back down, stunned at the intensity and level of rejection I had just undergone. The jukebox began the soulful licks of AC/DC’s Shot Down in Flames

Ain't it a shame
To be shot down in flames