That's Not How I Was Raised

Midafternoon. A woman and a man in their early twenties are riding side-by-side in an old schoolbus. They are surrounded shouting children; the flat countryland of North Dakota passes by outside the window, as rapidly as our fleeting youth.

The woman wears hoop earrings and speaks rapidly. The man's shoes are not visible, but simple loafers are ideal if possible.

W: I mean, I'm just saying, that's not how I was raised. It's just not, you know?
M: Uh huh.
W: I mean I would never -- it's OK for some people, you know? I don't know. But I was just - my mother would have killed me if I had ever worn that outside of the house.
M: Yeah.

end