Scott and I are walking down a street, a really hilly street, like in San Francisco. We start making frisbees out of trash blowing along side us, it's really windy. Gusty, like a hurricane.
Our frisbees go really far.
A frisbee goes flying and lands in a small park set back from the road, about a half mile away.
"Wow," says Scott, "that one went almost 2400 feet. That's impossible"
"Well, that's how far you have to shoot when you're an archer," I reply.
Kathy and I are driving around an abandoned suburbia housing development, on impossibly pretzel like roads. We're discussing the houses, which are all falling apart, but have impeccably groomed yards.
I comment casually that we're in the area of the development that people can't live in, because of all the radiation. "I've been thinking we should get one of those geiger detectors," I say absentmindedly.
"Yeah, we should really try to get one of those," Kathy replies flatly, as if we we're talking about a loaf of bread or a new universal remote.