"Piss is the new cum," he says. I stare at him for a long time with a blank facial expression. I watch him watching me, and then I start laughing, and then he starts laughing.
We sit together laughing and looking at each other, and looking at each other and laughing, but we aren't sharing anything except an action.
People always get it wrong. They think they can know the unknowable. They think they can "read between the lines." Why you are ever REALLY laughing, or smiling, or crying. What you're REALLY thinking, and who you REALLY are. We're both in the same place doing the same thing and that is, of course, all either of us could possibly REALLY know, besides piss is the new cum, anyway.