A Conversation

“He didn’t show.”


“I can’t believe this…”


“Are you listening to me?”

“Of course I am…I just needed it repeated.”

“Yeah, right.”

“No, I swear I was listening!”

“You have your earbuds in.”

“Casey, I swear—

“Upon your sainted grandmother. Yeah.”

“Come on, Casey! You can talk to me!”

“How am I supposed to confide in you when—”

“Because I’m your friend, Casey! That’s why!”

“—you constantly, consciously show me willful disrespect? Tell me.”

“Casey, it’s not…”

“Not what?”

“…not…_like_ that.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring. What are you listening to?”

“System of a Down…”

“Instead of listening to me, right?”

“But, Casey—”

“Just give it a rest sometimes!”

“Music is my life!”

“See? Right there.”

“What the crap?”

“Music’s your life. You’ve no room for me.”

“But, Casey, I—”

“Save it.”

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

“Somewhere where I won’t be ignored. Someplace I get attention.”

“Casey, don’t go! Casey! Casey—

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