Broadly speaking there are two kinds of people. Those who understand how extremely useful white cables can be, and those who don't. Jimmy is the first of these. He loves white cables. And white telephones. And white computer monitors with fruit on the back. That's more or less the sum of what Ove has absorbed during the car journey into town, when Jimmy natters on excitedly about the sorts of things every rational person ought to be so insuperably interested in, until Ove at last sinks into a sort of deeply meditative state of mind, in which the overweight young man's babbling turns to a dull hissing in his ears.

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