“Practice on me,” said his friend.
“I don’t-”
“Give it a try.” His friend adopted a feminine posture. “So, handsome, what do you do?”
“Um,” he said, disconcerted. “I’m a technical writer.” He sensed this wasn’t enough.
“On the macro level,” he added.
“Macro level.”
He nodded. “Things are more interesting subatomically.”
“Mm-hmm,” said his friend.
“Subatomically, writing is arranging charged particles on magnetic media in meaningful patterns. In truth,” he said triumphantly, “I am a quantum mechanic.” He raised an imaginary glass.
“And you know what they say about quantum mechanics.” He grinned. “Everything is possible.” He winked.
“That’s what you’re going with?” said his friend.
“No good?”
“It’s a lot of spin.”
He grimaced.
“But you are a quarky guy.”
He groaned. “But will it work?”
“You mean does your angle have momentum?”
“Stop it.”
“Well,” said his friend, “everything is possible.”
Unfortunately, fewer things were probable.
