Mike approached Jennifer slowly."Tell me," he said, "are you a real travel agent?"
She looked at him suspiciously.
"Of course I am," she snapped.
"Well, what I mean is, I've met a writer whose books you can't read, an artist whose paintings you can't see, and a chef whose food you can't eat."
"Oh, I see what you mean. Well, yes, I send real people on real trips to real places."
"Hold me."
Jennifer slapped him.
"Get a hold of yourself, man!"
"Sorry."