When My Friends Talk, I'm Taking Notes

Context:
Sidney Webb House, London, friends together.
Fragments of deeply engaging conversation that occurred late at night in my room.


G.: I have to discipline myself. If I read 10 more pages I can have two more cubes of chocolate.
Anh: You’re still at page 106. Wait. How come you’re at page 106? When did you read this much?
[long break in conversation]
G.: Oh, I actually started at chapter 6. Page 96.
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Anh: How many pages are left in this chapter?
G.: Oh not much, not much, I’m halfway through the chapter actually.
[immediately after]
Andrew: Did I scare you?
Anh: No.
G. [to me, as I was typing]: What are you gonna do with that [these notes]? Write a book?
Anh: “The Life of Dinu”
G.: Yeah, write a short story. It’s better. More concise.
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Anh: Giu’s a teddybear.
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G.: SO if she [Anh] were 40 pounds more obese than she already is…
Andrew: Wait, where would you put those pounds?
Anh: Seriously, skinny people are so scary.
G.: Yeah, some people are too bony…
Anh: Like, when you throw them around, they don’t have that sponginess.
G.: When more than 50% of your body mass is bone, that’s not ok.
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Anh: My butt is freezing.
G.: Don’t be obtuse. That’s a very obtuse thing to say.
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G.: [describing an econ graph] This could be a rollercoaster. It could be anything.
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G.:You know what this is? It’s chocolate residue dispatched from my hand. [on the new book and my sheets].
Anh: You know how on every 10 pages you get chocolate. You should leave a chocolate mark at every 10 pages.
G.: Oh you know, I could hold the chocolate with my left hand…
Anh: [interrupting G.] I am not listening anymore. I am sorry.
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G.[randomly]: Ay. Zimbabwe…
N.: What?
Anh: That’s a country.
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