I turn my iPod down and note that he has been rebuffed by his first three attempts at pre-dawn conversation.
“What? Huh? Naw, dog, just on the bus. What’s that? Huh. OK. Yeah, man. I’ll call you when you wake up.”
Dressed in a poofy M&M jacket, pants belted just under his bottom, it’s clear by looking at him that he’s not gone to bed yet. I am absentmindedly twirling a piece of hair just behind my ear and wondering what it is about the melt-in-your-mouth-not-in-your-hands candy-inspired clothing line that garners such devotion when he returns my look. I meet his eye, look behind me, then look back. ‘Me?’ I mouth, index finger to my chest.
He turns away, disgusted, and I grin.
The fourth call he makes is the charm. I turn my iPod off for ease of eavesdropping.
And I am disappointed.
The entire conversation, which surprisingly goes on for almost 20 minutes, is variations on the following:
- “Naw, man.”
- “Yeah, dog.”
- “Thass what I’M talkin’ about.”
- And “Mumble frappin gargle farbin.”
I shrug and go back to my iPod.
Sometimes, people are just plain boring.