It’s good to see I’m not the only one who thinks sometimes dialogue is a game to be won or to be lost:

“I had an orgasm on the subway,” she said.

I nodded, and pretended that I had something perfect to say that didn’t need to be said. I poured her a glass of wine, and sat down next to her on the couch. I could wait. There was no way she wouldn’t finish.

“Where is the wine from?” she asked.

She was playing hard to get, but I could handle it. I knew it was a game, and I knew the only way to win was to stay strong.

“So, tell me about the subway.”

“The wine?”

“Argentina.” Fuck, not only was I losing, but I was losing badly.

South American wine can be quite good.