A man and a woman, co-workers, in their twenties, are talking. The woman is pale, dark-haired, wire-framed glasses. She looks a little like me but younger and perkier. The man is lumpy, slouched, reeking of low expectations. He is clearly hitting on her.
“What are you listening to?” he asks. They are both wearing iPod headphones.
“Guster?” she says.
“Uh-huh.”
“What are you listening to?”
“The Swans.” He mumbles it.
“What?”
“The Swans?”
She’s nodding. “What are they like?”
“They’re kind of — goth?”
“Goth? I didn’t know that was–”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know what was a kind of music. I thought it was a fashion thing?”
“Yeah, I don’t really dress like that, I just — I like the music. I like all kinds of music,” he apologized.
“Yeah?”
The bus rumbles along and then arrives at our stop. He starts again. “So are you liking the job?”
“Yeah?” she says.