What follows is an unedited recreation of conversation overheard at dinner in Westlake Village this week. BH and I were enjoying a quiet dinner when a trio of millennials were seated at the next booth. One guy arrived first and made a quick phone call while waiting for his friends to arrive:
"Hey Ma, it's me just checkin' in. How was your day?" Loud, but fairly innocuous.
Followed by, "No, Ma, I came home last night. I just slept in my car in the driveway 'cause I was really tired."
"Passed out in the driveway? Yeah, I guess you could call it that, but, like I came home right? I didn't stay with like, random Tinder chick or anything." Dude's got a point.
His two friends, a girl and another guy, arrive and slide into the booth. If they notice that he's on the phone, they don't show it in any way.
Eventually a waiter appears to take their order. Looking at the young lady in the group he says, "Ladies first..."
"Yo, I'll take the carne asada taco plate," says Dude #2. "That's like, meat, right?"
The waiter clarifies that carne asada is in fact, cow meat or beef as it's commonly known.
Ladies second, the girl places her order, "Um, I'll have the carnitas burrito plate, but instead of the chicken, I'd like mahi-mahi inside, okay?"
And finally, Dude #1, still on the phone with his mom, "Holdup, hold up, Mom, I gotta order" pause, squints at menu then looks up at waiter "what's a shrimp cocktail? Is that like a drink?" another pause "Oh, sick thanks! My mom says it's like gazpacho with fish or whatever shrimp are. I'll do that."
The waiter leaves and the three geniuses begin debating which local area code is best. The consensus: 310 for "straight-up business", when you've got a 310 number "they know you're, like, pro". 818 for "like social networking and y' know, hook ups" 805 is bad news apparently, strictly for people who are "dead in the suburbs or gay in Palm Springs".