“Polite sex, anyway,” Rhiannon agreed. She ashed her cigarette and clamped it between her lips, where her Revlon ravishing red helped it stick. As she scratched idly at her elbow, she wished for the type of female friendship where she could ask life’s important questions – does it count as bestiality if he’s only an animal 5% of the time? Is it necrophilia when a human sleeps with a vampire? – without fear of judgment.

“Never fear, we’re nowhere near that.” One of her dryers stopped running. She squatted in front of the machine and pulled out an armload of clothes, which she transferred to the table and began to sort. “What about you, are you seeing anyone?”