One magician questions the other magician, "What is the reason for your movement?"
I listen to a podcast while I lift weights each morning and type notes into my phone that I'd otherwise highlight if I were reading. I don't find lifting weights to be magical, and listening to magicians talk, in this instance, is my way to remove me from actually having to be here.
Labored magic, strings, goofs. Earbuds in my ears is supposed to communicate that I'm unavailable to converse with others lifting weights. Nonetheless, I respond to the friendly question about how many pets I have.
Our newest kitten, pickles, urinated all over my side of the king bed the prior evening. If I wait just a few more moments here in the weight room, I'm welcome to borrow a bottle of odoban, which I'm told is the best solution to odors.
Without a car or satchel, I transport the bottle of odoban with a firm grasp. I am wearing dark blue fleece gloves that contrast nicely with the white plastic spray bottle. As I walk down the grey street I phone my wife. But listening to a podcast in the gym drained my battery and my conversation ends abruptly.
I test out the idea of signaling mental messages to Andi that I will meet her for coffee on the way home. I am curious about drinking coffee alone on this chilly morning with no book or smartphone, and the image I present of me and the odoban spray bottle companion. I greet a few customers as they enter the coffeeshop but receive little in return.