frigidly

The pop songs they heard slayed them every time. Some radio would only have toplay, for old time's sake, that song that goes "yes yes yes, oh baby yes," and everyone in the diner would be in tears. They could not love anymore, they thought, just drink and pour coffee and track down people in the rain. They were living frigidly, as if in a Cone of Frost. It was apparently necessary for their babies to abandon them so they could see what I mean, if you know what I mean. But couldn't they get something back, or something else? Love -- is this something we can learn to do again, and if so, when will that time arrive, even on a bad day? When do you know when something is becoming something that changes you? That's what Andrea was thinking of, and a Ramos Gin Fizz, as she watched the snowcapped figure of the detective's partner topple to the sidewalk and the swift shadow of Mike dodge down the street. When do you learn that the world, like any diner worth its salt, is open twenty-four hours a day?

Now. Mike ran after her through the drips and drabs of snow on the ground. It never snowed in San Francisco. Never never never. This is love, an impossible thing that will change your frigid life, and Mike believed it was happening and ran after her into the night.

-p. 90 Adverbs / Daniel Handler