"I've gotta quite this job" Matt said, staring at the Beatles section of the record shop. "Five years and I'm still just putting C.D.s on shelves."

He was talking to his housemate Cal, who was leaning over the shop counter looking for a five cent coin he'd dropped. "But if you quit, who's gonna give me discounts?" Cal asked.

"You might have to pay full price" Matt said. "It's a cruel world." He turned around to face Cal. "Hey, get off there! You're knocking shit everywhere. Jesus."

"I lost five cents" Cal complained.

Matt rolled his eyes and walked to the cash register. "Here" he said, opening it and handing a coin to Cal. "Five cents." He started straightening out all the flyers and notices that had scattered across the counter under Cal's weight.

"Hey, is your girlfriend still looking for a housemate?" Cal asked.

The fact that he didn't refer to Rona by name, despite having met her on more than one occasion, was indicative of the sort of reasons why Matt didn't bring her back to his house very often.

"Yeah, you know someone?" Matt asked hopefully.

"What's the problem, can't she find her own housemate?" Cal asked. "Is she anal? Total pain-in-the-arse to live with?"

"No!" Matt protested. "She's great."

"Yeah but you're fucking her."

"It's a bit more than that . . ." Matt had been living with Cal long enough to try not to take offence at such comments.

"I'm just saying it's not hard to find a housemate" Cal said. "You can practically go and pull someone off the street in this town and they'll be looking for somewhere new to live. And I don't just mean the bums! Haha."

"I think she has slightly higher standards than you, Cal."

"Yeah, I don't have many, do I? Living with you, eh!" Matt didn't answer, and Cal said: "Hey don't be all offended, I'm joking! You're definitely in the top twenty housemates I've ever had." Cal had had more housemates than anyone else Matt had ever met. Matt wasn't surprised.