Not Douglas Against Lincoln, I'm Thinkin'

It had been some time since the last time I overheard something decent.  Perhaps I am at fault for getting the idea that the universe owed me really interesting incidents which I could take in and spin into some form of entertainment. Those who know me have the idea that my encounters with them could become material in one of my creative endeavors or another, but really it's strangers who ought to worry.

Anyway, the dry spell is over. There I was, waiting around in San Diego for a train. The station was a smaller one, and rather confusingly laid out. I was there very early, but people started to appear as the train's arrival drew closer. Many were curious about whether it was the right track for the train they wanted. I was as unsure as them. One couple did not ask anything of the kind. They were engaged in something else between themselves.

As usual, I cannot quite say what it was all about even know. I'll begin by saying that I think they were drunk, or well enough along. I think they may have been to a football game, although I would have to check the schedule to see if the Chargers were at home. There were plenty of jerseys around, anyway. The guy was wearing one, but the lady was not. They were not arguing, but there was a note of contention to it.

It felt like some kind of debate for the ages between the quintessential "bro" and "party girl". It was quite a back and forth between them, each seemingly representing their side of the epic romantic battles between the sexes from time immemorial. I don't know that there was a lot of substantial progress made, but a fair amount was said about who buys the drinks and who's putting themselves on the line by approaching the other at bars. I'll at least say that I didn't find any light shed on what remains for me a mysterious subject.