Ben
How's it going. Things feel okay at the moment?
How's it going. Things feel okay at the moment?
Okay is a stretch. The office printer died again, so I've been rerouting everything to the library, which is fine except it's always locked. You were kind with the coffee last week, so I'm thinking of repaying you by dragging you to that new vinyl spot next Tuesday. Unless you're busy. Don't say you're "busy" without actually giving me a date. I need to know if I should bring my collection or not.
Tuesday works. Bring the collection — I'll actually show up this time.
Don't make promises you can't keep, Ben. The collection is mostly 1970s Japanese city pop, so if you flake, I'm selling it all to the pawn shop on 4th. And it's not just Tuesday; we need to be there by 6:15 specifically, not 6:30, because the owner closes early. I'm tired of repeating myself. Just be there.
6:15. I'll be there. Not selling city pop to a pawn shop over me being late.
It's not over being late, it's over the principle of reliability. And I'm not selling them to the pawn shop; I'm selling them to a collector in Jersey who pays cash. Just don't make me wait past 6:17. I've got a shift at the diner starting at 8, so I need to be out by 7:30. Don't be late.
6:17, out by 7:30. Got it. I'll actually set an alarm this time.
Good, because the alarm is the only thing stopping you from walking past the shop and eating a burger instead. And it's not "a" diner, it's Sal's on Elm. The one with the sticky floors. I'm not trying to die young, so 7:30 is a hard stop. If you're late, I leave without you. Don't test me on Tuesday.
Sal's, sticky floors, hard stop 7:30. Wouldn't test you on this one, Pia.
"Wouldn't test me" is exactly what you said last month before the rain ruined the picnic. Don't get comfortable with the promise. Just bring the umbrella if the sky looks grey. And Sal's isn't just sticky; the coffee machine is broken, so I'll grab that pre-made stuff from the counter. Don't expect fresh brew. You know how it is.
Umbrella if it looks grey, no fresh brew, noted. Not comfortable, just showing up.
"Not comfortable" is weird phrasing. It makes it sound like you're bracing for impact. Just show up. And it's not grey, it's specific cloud cover. If the humidity is above 60%, grab the umbrella. I'm not carrying both our collections in the rain. Also, I still owe you for that coffee, so don't expect a refund next time.
Fine. Above 60%, umbrella comes. I'm not bracing, Pia — just paying attention lately.
Fine, but "paying attention" doesn't mean you're suddenly reliable. Just don't bring the humidity gauge, okay? I'll check the app. And if you're actually "paying attention," you'd know I hate the humidity setting on my phone, so stop mentioning it. Tuesday is the day to get this right, not to lecture me on your new habits.
Fair. No lectures. Tuesday, 6:17, Sal's after. That's the whole plan.
It's Sal's before the record shop, you idiot. We grab the cheap coffee, then walk. The shop doesn't open until 6:00, but we need the caffeine first. You're confusing the order of events. Don't show up at the vinyl place at 6:15 thinking you can just waltz in and buy records without the plan.