“Hello?”
“Hi-i-i-i.”
“Oh, hi. I thought you were going to call back after your guest left.”
“He did.”
“So fast? It wasn’t five minutes ago.”
“Yeah.”
“Who was it?”
“Jake. Came by to hang out a little.”
“Was he just leaving?”
“Oh, well, you know, not, uh, really, on the one hand, while on the other, literal, hand, he was, in fact, just leaving, a few moments ago, before I called you back; and by now, he has gone.”
“Asshole. You know what I mean. Not before you called back, but when I called you.”
“Look. When you called, we were just hanging out, talking about other things we ought to be doing. You called. I answered, and, uncharacteristically, didn’t become immediately hostile to the party on the other end of the line (damn telemarketers), but, hearing your voice, smiled and opened, and ‘cooed,’ as Jake puts it: ‘Hi-i-i-i.’
“Now, it’s rude to have a casual phone conversation while entertaining a guest. Given; so I couldn’t just keep cooing, I have been informed, but it can also be disastrous, if not also rude, to put off the caller. By the time I said, ‘Say, listen—,’ he had his shoes on.”
“And you let him go.”
“He is aware of a light that comes into my expression when I’m contemplating a person whom I fancy, and would facilitate, to his best ability, the perpetuation of that light expression. Once he heard me ‘coo,’ I couldn’t have made him stay.”
“Okay. That’s sweet. But you’re still an asshole.”
“Sure enough. With sweet friends who want him to be a happy asshole. A happy asshole who ‘coos’ around you.”
“Fuck that. ‘An asshole who coos,’ sounds gross.”
“Amen. Gross, but sonorous.”
“Well! Aren’t you agreeable?”
“I’m not typically described that way, and will add, although I think as a rule that it is too early for such potty humor between us, that very few of the sounds emitted by assholes could be accurately described as ‘coo-ing’ sounds.”