i. Rob and I were down the pub, drinking Guinness. There was a woman in there with a face like a fox. The whiteness of it, along with the red hair, only strengthened the impression. She shot out surly looks at everyone, but there must have been something special about me. Anytime she looked at me, her eyes narrowed and she looked extra-surly. "Rob, let's push off," I said. "Are you kidding? It's bloody well snowing out there." "It is?" "What you need is an Irish coffee down your neck," he said. He stood up, a bit unsteady on his feet, and put both hands down on the table. "I can do this thin