'thats a nice colour,' she said, 'it goes with your face.'
'hows that?' i said. 'egg shell? is my face colourful enough to tell a thousand stories? if it tells you anything its just this - what its like to sleep beside my wife, but thats it.'
'forget about it,' she said, 'just forget about it.'
'naw,' i said, 'i wish i could say something about yours but im afraid the only thing that comes to mind is cruel and defeatist. i wish your face was more melodious, we could think about it and feel musical.'
'whatever,' she said. 'a melody is cheap. im glad my face is too angular, a melody is the cheapest.'
'whatever,' i said in turn, 'lets get past that, shall we? a face is a face, melody or not, i was just saying i wish your face had better taste in music, as it is i could care less what music people think of when they look at your face even if it is choppy and lacking rhythym. dance. if thats what you like just do it, who cares what other people think...'