“Why is that guy throwing them rocks?” I asked Hate Man.
“He’s been nutting up lately,” said Hate Man.
Then he walks over to the bench. Picks up a big plate of food that was sitting there. Looks at it. Then dumps it on the ground. I guess he didn’t like it.
Then he makes a bee-line over to where I am sitting. Sits down on the ground right in front of me, and says:
“Got a cigarette?”
“No I got this one from Hate Man.”
Then he starts babbling at me in this matter-a-fact tone: “Hey remember that time when you blah blah blah and that other guy said blah blah blah. . .”
“Oh yeah, right,” I said. Agreeing with what he was saying. Whatever the hell it was that he was saying. . . .
“Well, I gotta go use the restroom.” I said. I grabbed my backpack and my beer and left.
Guess I’ll talk to Hate Man some other time.