Care

Written 56-A04 [2024-07-24], Edited 56-A04 [2024-07-24]

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“So I was just wondering, whether you would call that behaviour more ‘mature' or ‘immature',” she asked, while we were walking down the sunny streets of Scarborough. Which could just as well have been a cloudy day in Calgary, as far as I was concerned.

“I don’t care,” I said.

“Uh okay,” she said. “But even if you don’t care, can you answer?”

“I don’t care about whether I can or cannot answer,” I said.

“Forget it,” she said while scowling. She took a deep breath and abruptly changed the topic, not that speed of topic transition really mattered. I mean, a change of topic has to happen at some point, almost by definition. Otherwise it would be possible to be stuck discussing the same points for eternity, which would be a problem because people would stop caring.

“Hey look at that ice cream shop,” she said, pointing to the only building in this area that wasn’t either a home or a warehouse. “Want to go there?”

“I don’t care,” I said.

“Does that mean you don’t want to go?” She asked. “Or does that mean you don’t mind going?”

“The ambiguity isn’t my concern,” I said.

She rolled her eyes and wiped the sweat off her brow. “Well I’m getting an ice cream, whether you do or not.”

She walked toward the ice cream shop and I followed, without explicitly deciding to follow because I wasn’t actually craving an ice cream.

“I’ll have the Belgian chocolate in a cone,” she said to the cashier.

“What about you?” the cashier asked while looking in my direction. He had a hairnet and a clean-shaven face, not that his hairstyle or hygiene mattered much to me in the grand scheme of things.

“I don’t care,” I said.

“Are you paying?” Asked the cashier.

“I don’t care,” I said.

“Is that a yes, or a no?” He asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said.

“Well if it’s no difference to you, I’d suggest you buy the Limited Edition Gooseberry and Goulash flavour before it’s thrown out - I mean before it’s sold out,” said the cashier.

I had no reason to agree or disagree to this request. I expected the cashier to ask me a meaningless question about putting the ice cream in a cone or cup but he just gave me a cup without asking me.

“How’s the uhhh,” she started. “The Gooseberry and Goulash? Is that even an ice cream flavour?”

I licked the scoop of the novelty ice cream flavour. I guess you could say it was mid.

“Not much to say about it.” I said.

“You know what, man, not caring about anything is not very conducive to discussion, it’s actually really boring!” She said.

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”