K***** (on the phone with B***): “No, B***! I am not f***ing going to the f***ing bar! I don’t care about f***ing reggae night. D’Jais is like Bennyville. Why do you even want to go there? I hate it there. I didn’t get any sleep last night at all because of those damn animals.” (Pause.) “No, don’t call me when you get home. I don’t care. You better not. S****** better have gotten arrested if I have to come drive your sorry ass home.” (Pause.) “No, B***. No. I’m going. I’m trying to drive. Bye.”

Lisa: “No D’Jais, huh? You don’t want to go hang out with all the cool people on a Tuesday night?”

K*****: “AAAAH! Sometimes he can be so aggravating! Sometimes he’s not, but then he just IS!”

Lisa: “So, when B*** calls and doesn’t aggravate you, does that make you consider getting back together with him?”

K*****: “No, because I know he’ll just aggravate me again soon.”

Lisa: “Oh.”

K*****: “Yeah, I mean sometimes I think I love him, but I think you either just love someone or you don’t and you just know. You know?”

Lisa: “I guess. Or you could just not love someone and know or not know, or maybe you could even love someone and not know. Or maybe you could change your mind. So, if he consistantly didn’t aggravate you for a long time, then would he get credit for not being aggravating? Or does he just never get credit for not being aggravating because he’ll eventually be aggravating again?”

K*****: “I don’t know. No one understands. I can sometimes see myself spending the rest of my life with him, but then there are other times, like that time with the f***ing reservoir. I mean, I know I’m not, like, the brightest f***ing mold in the shit, but…”

Lisa: “The brightest mold in the shit?”

K*****: “Yeah, I mean, I’m not, but at least I know what a f***ing reservoir is. I mean, I need someone who I can talk to about this kind of shit.”

Lisa: “Mold in the shit? Who says that?”