piles of mountains of torrents of pure nonsense, whereby they can still savor every bit of the biggest pleasure. It was at the Wan-Fang hospital bus stop where I got on, sitting next to a girl in jeans skirt. The minute the bus set off, her cell-phone rang; she answered the phone, then failing to put in down all the way through the trafficlights-infested streets toward NCCU stop. In the very beginning, about five minutes long, I was barely interested in the seemingly inresistible chaterring contest she was embarked on. Afterwards, mainly due to mute boredem, I felt curious, and thus began my eavesdropping. "Where shall we have dinner?" asked by a most engaging voice in the noisy bus, a tone that clearly defined her intimate relationship with the invisible interlocutor. She continued, "What shall we have for dinner?" a question that closely ensued the previous unsolved one. Apparently unsatisfied with the advised anwser from the other end of the phone, she inquired, "How about beef noodles, spaghetti, or dopplings?" Her frown showed that no desirable answer had come out yet. With a jarring switch of topic, she suddenly questioned in a nonchalant manner, "Where are you now? The schoolgate? Make a guess: How far are we?" Chuckling for a while, she seemed to be pleased by the unheard reply. Then, a silent pause intervened; she still glued the pink, Kitty-decked cell phone to her pierced ear. "It is your duty to decide what we are going to have for dinner," she suddenly popped out, "Be sure to figure it out before I arrive!" Mildly shaking her head, she resumed, "No, not that one. We just had it several days ago! Something different, ok?" Before long, she droned, "I saw the Quan-Jia convenience store; the bus turned left, oh, I was now on the Yong-Kang street. Red light? Oh, I was unlucky enough to be delayed by yet another red light." Like a sports reporter, she somehow did not feel fed up with the game of locating with accuracy where she was, is, and will be. Finally, the bus pulled up, and I was left free to get off the bus. She got off, too. Then, I overheard the result of their exhaustive discussion, an outcome that almost went as a foregone conclusion:"I cannot believe it! How dare you suggest that awful store? Every but that one!" I, too, found it incredible that a topic like "an ideal meal of dinner" could intrigue this young pair of couple so much. That is exactly what the contents of lovers' talk is all about: piles of mountains of torrents of endless nonsesnse. -- What kind of animal is lover? Well, you get one simply by taking the brain out of a human. Way --

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