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" Laurel finds me at the bar, again. She ignores the bartender and doesn&amp;#039;t sit down. She takes an ice cube from my drink and sets it on the table. &amp;quot;Before this melts,&amp;quot; she says, &amp;quot;you have to decide how it&amp;#039;s gonna be.&amp;quot; I tell her that water freezes when its temperature drops below zero degrees Celsius. The molecules slow down and bond together. The density of the bonds keeps ice afloat in liquids. &amp;quot;The kids are in the car, you son-of-a-bitch,&amp;quot; she says and grabs my collar.  When things get too heated, I continue, or there&amp;#039;s too much pressure, the molecules move faster, the bonds break, and gaps form when melting begins.  &amp;quot;This is your last chance.&amp;quot; And once that begins, I say, as water forms around the base of the ice cube until it looks like it&amp;#039;s drowning in itself and she runs out of the door with the keys jingling in her hand -- there&amp;#039;s not a whole hell-of-a-lot that I can do about it. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.esquire.com/entertainment/books/a3206/napkin-haas/>