“Why aren’t you talking to…?”
(An informal survey, Friday night Happy Hour at the Bullfinch.)

“He stole my girlfriend.”
“She stole my song.”
“He stole my style.”
“Because you’ll put it in the column.”
“Tried to turn me into a tree.”
“Gave my father a drink laced with stuff that made him vomit.”
“Wouldn’t let me join their pantheon.”
“She knits better than I do.”
“He’s pro-war, and he’s convinced her that she’s some kind of muse for war or something.”
“No reason. Just don’t like talking.”