we were talking about something spectacular, i'm sure, because that is what we do; anything short of spectacular is not worth a discussion.
a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties suddenly appeared at barclay's side.
he had a cardboard sign hung around his neck which read, and i quote (a little inaccurately, due to the sign's potty mouth), "kick my butt for a dollar".
this must be a new form of busking. i suppose one knows when one has hit rock bottom, when one has no talent to give, no wares to sell, and can only offer themselves as a human punching bag for a dollar a bop. i suppose, though, that this would be a better alternative than working at staples. (zing)
we smiled at him politely, because that is what we do; we're a polite couple.
he looked barclay up and down, grinned.
"Hey there cupcake. come 'ere. gimme a buck and i'll let you pummel me. bet you could."
we smiled at him politely, and walked on.
because that is what we do.