My friend Hugo likes to laugh. I mean, he really likes to laugh. He can’t tell a joke because as he’s telling it, he thinks of how funny the punchline is, and laughs too hard to keep talking. He’s a professor’s dream student because he always laughs out loud at the semi-funny jokes classicists toss in to see who smiles and who’s sleeping with their eyes open. Also he’s an awesome friend because he makes everything seem really funny. He’s reading this post and laughing right now.
Stick and I were looking over Hugo and Diana’s itinerary and had a moment of confusion where we thought for a moment that they had developed time-travel powers, but we were actually reading the wrong column of their schedule.
“Good thing we figured that out,” one functional, employed adult said to the other, as if we’d just split the atom instead of locating the arrival time, which is cleverly labeled arrival time. “It would be awful if we got the time wrong and didn’t meet them in the airport!”
“No, it wouldn’t.” said the other. “Hugo would laugh.”
(Post title thanks to David Feng and the Beijing subway!)