Me telling a story: “So then, this guy named Brandon — maybe you know him? Red shirt, brown hair, kinda tall? Anyway, this guy named Brandon borrowed my hula hoop (the collapsable one that Jason from Berkely made for me last April), and he was totally enjoying it, doing some of those tricks where it goes over his head, and down to his knees. It was great! It reminded me of that one time I was at the park with Philo — who, by the way, is one of the quickest hoop learners I know — and he did this knee trick that totally wowed me. So, Brandon was rocking out with my hoop at, like, 9 pm. And then by, say, 11 or 11:15 or so, wandered off with it. When I packed up the car at 9am the next morning, I searched everywhere for Brandon and the hoop, but I couldn’t find it. So we had to leave without it.”

Andreas telling the story: “So then he borrowed the, you know, thing. And was doing stuff, and left and he didn’t come back to the place with the thing so we left and it’s gone.”

It’s always funny to compare Andreas and my storytelling. I get deeply into tangential details, emotive recollections, massive gesticulations. Dre, meanwhile, tells stories that consist only of pronouns (never names) and generic objects (things, stuff, etc). He lets his listener connect the small dots, while I paint a picture more detailed than anyone could possibly have the patience to absorb. Between the two of us, we’re quite effective.