A Conversation
Me: So let me get this straight. Why do you come here in the morning?
Other: To get tea.
Me: I'm not buying that. You come here because it's part of your morning pattern. This is what you have succumbed to [name]. This is now your life. Given your druthers you would never come to this place with these bloated fuckbags sitting around drinking coffee trying to look smart while reading the New York Times. You do this because you have stopped caring. Like dominoes of boredom, your life is slowly starting to become colored in between the lines.
[PAUSE]
Other: You're a dick. You are here too.
Me: I'm here because of you. I have yet to develop a morning pattern beyond my own survival. It's when you start adding in the frivolous extremities and surrounding yourself with samples of similarity over and over again that your brain stops working.
Other: What? Dude, do the people you work with think you're on drugs.
Me: Maybe...
Other: Do you talk like this to everyone?
Me: Yep
Other: Why?
Me: Why not? Is it out of your familiarity zone?
Other: I guess. *to the waitress* I'll have a English Toffee
Me: *to the waitress* I'll have a Heineken
Other: You'll have a what? It's 8:15
a.m.
Me: I'm gonna drink a beer
Other: Why?
Me: To show you it's possible.
Other: You're fucked up.
[PAUSE]
Other: I fuckin love you.
