Mental exercise

Sorry about not posting; I got kinda lazy and stuff so... yeah. Here is a much-needed posting.

------

"That will be four oh-one," the barista guy behind the counter said, implying that I have bought a coffee so expensive that if I drank like this often enough I may have to think twice about my retirement plans. I, however, did not act all that surprised; knowing that I have dug my own hole this time and not wanting to back off and order another cup of pot-brewed coffee again, I subtlely raised my eyebrows in controlled surprise and handed him the credit card, a relic of sort with scratches and peeling outer layers and embossed numbers that have long since lost their coated colors.

------

"You are still thinking about that?"
"Yeah, what do you think?"
"I still can't believe you're still thinking about that little slice of cake."
"Well, I think it's much better than you being a womanizer and yet not getting any."

------

"Okay... a Spider-Man bookbag on the shoulder--jean shorts with cargo pockets--leather sandals--travel bags--graying hair--neighborhood football shirt... you've got a kid, don't ya?"

------

"I'm like a sunflower without the sun."
"So would that make you simply a flower?"

------

The sound of the piano began flowing out of the speaker. Although the music was live, it sounded as though--with the piano sound coming into his ear mostly originating from the speaker rather than piano itself--the music was coming from an old record player. "It's not bad," Quail thought. "It's not that good, but it has its own quaint feel to it."
Across the table Heath sneered. Holding a glass of whiskey on the rocks, he muttered, "where do you think this is? The music makes this four-star hotel feel like a cheap western saloon."

------

Okay, that'll be all. Have a good day y'all. (N)