Ryan and I sat in the car and waited for a break in traffic to make a left.
"Do you have any plans for the weekend?" I said.
"Yeah," he said, "I'm going to go see three hundred and twenty-three movies."
I looked at him.
"How are you going to see that many movies in one weekend?"
A Wheaton moving truck lumbered by.
"Look!" I said, "it's totally me!"
"It totally is." He said. We've had this exchange almost as often as the one where I point to the truck that's loaded with Hay and say, "Hey!"
"So I'm not seeing three hundred and twenty-three movies," he said. "I'm seeing 300, and I'm also seeing 23."
"Oh." I said. "So . . . you're seeing a number of movies, then."
"A number of numbered movies," he said.
"And the number of the numbered movies is two."
"Yes." He said. "Well, two, and three hundred, and twenty-three."
"Can I count on that?" I said.
We were quiet for a moment.
"We're such nerds," Ryan said.
He held up his hand. "High five."
"High five," I said, as I delivered it.