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Being a degenerate is okay these days
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"Yeah, I... yeah." Jae couldn't think of anything else to add, so he just lifted one shoulder in a shrug and followed Jane in. The snack counter looked like it had been unmanned for more than the few minutes that Jae had been dawdling in the parking lot, suggesting that whoever was on duty before him had bailed before the end of a boring shift. He hopped the counter rather than walk around to check the register.

Ten, twenty, thirty, forty...

He tapped the barbell of his tongue piercing against the inside of his teeth as he silently counted off the money, glancing up at Jane every so often just in case she did anything interesting. She didn't, and the silence stretched on, save for the sounds of their general moving around to prepare their respective workplaces. Jae wondered if Jane's idea of a personal hell involved standing silently behind a counter with him on the other end, because that was what his was. Quiet moments on his own were all well and good, but prolonged uncomfortable silences when someone else was around were another thing entirely.

"So," he began. The lobby was small and Jae's voice naturally sort of loud, so he didn't have to raise it much to know he'd be heard. "Do you know where you're going to college yet?"

One-fifteen, one-twenty, one-twenty five...
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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