“Dude,” I ask, ” is this helping you get out the door on time? What are you doing?”
With five minutes until the bus comes, Matt has lost focus on making his lunch and is drumming out a song, bongo-style, on the bags of deli before him. Matt is one of those people who always has a beat in his head, is always tapping out a rhythm.
“What? I’m just slapping the meat. I’m a meat slapper!”
Oh, honey. There’s a time and a place.