"Assuming your home hasn't become a den of iniquity. I passed by the NYU Business School on the way here? It's a whorehouse now. Of course, the only reason I could tell the difference is because what prostitutes do, people like, and Sternies don't go in for that kind of thing."
Gar leaned back in his chair and waved at the girls. Emma had lodged a few scary images in his head, but they didn't bother, probably because Gar's head was a scary place to be. It was bad enough that he was lewd, but Gar was as inclined to ogle a woman's smell as he was her cleavage. Assuming "ogle" was appropriate. "Good luck explaining the boyfriend thing to your father. I'd walk you home, but I don't want to die."