_ME and HIM are at Fuel Café in Milwaukee, WI. HIM is scarfing lemon chips while ME is scoping out the joint._ ME: Hey, there’s a nice looking specimen over there. HIM: _[looks where indicated]_ You mean that lamp? ME: No, dumb ass. The girl. HIM: The girl, the girl. Come off your “the girl” act already. You don’t have to do that shit around me. ME: Oh. Well. Okay . . . . _They sit in the ambient non-silence for a while._ It just seems unrealistic. HIM: What does? ME: That we could have demystified women that quickly. HIM: How quickly? You mean over the last, oh, decade or so? ME: Well, I suppose if you look at it that way. HIM: To tell you the truth, I’d rather talk about something else right now. ME: Does this line of investigation make you uneasy? HIM: Not uneasy; it makes me bored! ME: Oh, all right, I can tell when you’re spoiling for a fight. What do you want to talk about? Cocksucking as usual? HIM: Yeah, sure, maybe. Yeah. ME: You’re impossible! HIM: Nope. Just very, very improbable. There’s a difference and I hope you can catch on soon, or else . . . . ME: Oh for Christ’s melodramatic sake or else what? HIM: I, uh. I don’t really want to talk about that either. ME: Oh, sorry. Bored again? HIM: No— ME: What then, damn you? HIM: —uneasy. _They stare snake-eye-ball juice at each other for exactly five minutes twenty-one seconds, and then they begin doing something else._