“I got to my place late one night. I was really beat. Getting that key out and into the door was about the last of me. I walked into the bedroom and there was Fay in bed reading the New Yorker and eating chocolates. She didn't even say hello.
I walked into the kitchen and looked for something to eat.
There was nothing in the refrigerator. I decided to pour myself a glass of water. I walked to the sink. It was stopped-up with garbage. Fay liked to save empty jars and jar lids. The dirty dishes filled half the sink and on top of the water, along with a few paper plates, floated these jars and jar lids.
I walked back into the bedroom just as Fay was putting a chocolate in her mouth.
"Look, Fay," I said, "I know you want to save the world. But can't you start in the kitchen ?"
"Kitchens aren't important," she said.”