Slowie likes monster trucks and the truth.

"So I am completely outside now."

"Ok."

"Yes...so I have on a Giambattista Valli ostrich feather and silk velvet and tulle dress that I picked up discounted at Barney's New York."

"You don't know what's going on in the world do you?"

"I'm not done."

"I also have on some Christian Louboutin shoes."

"Of course."

"But this is where everything gets interesting. I am completely outside now and my face and hair is in a thick cloud of exhaust from his truck."

"OK."

"This guy is picking me up in a monster truck!"

"What kind?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is it a Ford or Chevrolet?"

"I can't even get up into this thing!"

"So you attempted to get into it?"

"Well we were running late."

"Should I ask how you met him? Or will this expose a already thinning veil of sanity."

"He's an artist."

"What medium?"

"Graffiti."

"Of course."

"I like him. Even after he decides to ride over the cars on my block. He later told me he discovered a way to do it without shattering their windshields."

"I can dig that, your block has more German cars than Stuttgart."

"He tells me the truth."

"What? You don't get that from me?"

"You're good. But like others you're sort of a fake."

"What do you mean?"

"Your like a top that doesn't spin on your own. If I want you to be truthful and serious I have to keep spinning you. Once I stop engaging your well you go back to talking about your sad love life. My monster truck driving artist is constant. I like constant...well at times I hate it, but I need it. I need a constant something to be able to make a proper decision in my life.

"I see."

"On top of it all he doesn't feel it necessary to talk about his shit. Like he knows its a waste of time to give me things that will eventually work out on their own. He has cars to ride over."

"Is my love life sad?"

"Hello?"