In a pig's eye

"So okay, the other day I was watching Star Trek and Spock bitch-slapped, don't sigh --okay metaphorically bitch-slapped this Vulcan chick when she picked this other Vulcan guy over him and said 'after a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing, after all,
as wanting,'" I say and manage to cock my head to look at you but you just sort of laugh and say yeah.

"Why do you do that?" You ask, and I think you're commenting on my habit of dragging some half-meaning into the conversation without really committing. I look over at you, I'm never sure what the socially accepted amount of eye contact while driving is. You're not looking over at me anyway and I feel weird and look at the road.

"What?"

"You look both ways at an intersection when it's a green light," you say and I can tell you're not really interested in an answer but I’m glad you’re talking to me.

"Well, just in case someone didn't stop at the red-light. You're supposed to do that, they taught me in Drivers Ed."

"Yeah, but you look as you're driving through. You should do it before you drive or it wouldn't do any good anyway."

"At least I'd know if I was about to get hit, right?" But you're saying the words to the stupid song that's playing on the radio under your breath.