Rodney

"The same people who are intent on selling the American people crap are the same ones who say we're a culture in decline. But that's capitalism. We're a functioning hypocrisy."

"I hear ya." I always heard Rodney.

"I feel like I'm surrounded by people who are constipated in an infinite number of ways."

"O...K..."

"Know what I mean?"

"Right up until that constipation bit," I said. Rodney had a tendency to lose me after a little bit, and it had been a little bit. He lit another one of those cigarettes that I had told him to quit smoking. I told him again.

"Yeah, I know, I know, OK? But this is the world we live in. We not only have the right to be stupid but are encouraged to exercise every day."

"That's the exact opposite of what I'm encouraging."

"OK, but you know what I mean. They encourage it, they. You know how much these things cost?" I suppose Rodney had a point. It was twenty degrees outside, he had that cigarette, and maybe it was just the ash and smoke but some part of me wanted one, too. Seemed warm. Seemed like it would warm me up. "They cost a lot," he said, "a lot. But I got money. And they know I do. And that's the kicker."