Eli said, “Jay Boy, you are looking kind of hobo.”

Eli and I were standing on Haight Street outside a grungy store called “Robot Speak”. Robot Speak specialized in equipment for electronic music.

“Hobo? You are calling me hobo”

“Hobo.”

“Why so?”

“Well, you have got the sandals that aren’t really sandals they are just shoes with holes in them. That’s definitely hobo.”

“These are Merrills. That’s legit.”

“Totally hobo. And you haven’t figured out how to get that hair to lay down since you have it short.

“I thought short hair was hipster.”

“When it was long, it lay over on its side but now that you have the short look you have got it all standing up on end in different directions. You maybe want to brush it so it goes one way.”

“Whoa. Listen to this.”

“And you have your shirttail hanging out behind your sweater in the back. That’s a problem. The sweater is okay though.”

“When did you become such a fashion plate? I might have expected to get a lecture from Emmy or even Ajax but…”

“And I didn’t even mention that thing,” Eli pointed with his chin to my calf, which was wrapped in an Ace bandage.

“Now you are picking on my disability. That’s pretty nasty.” I had rolled my ankle and pulled a calf muscle in a squash game.

“Jay Boy. That Ace bandage isn’t doing anything. It’s not even in the right spot.” Eli contended that the Ace bandage should be on the ankle and I should have an ice pack on the calf.

“I am doing the compression thing.”

“You aren’t compressing anything. You just like the look.”

“You are saying it’s a vanity bandage?”

“It’s totally a vanity bandage. You haven’t even seen a trainer or anything.”

“Eli, you are very judgmental all of a sudden.”

“Just saying, it’s not your best look.”

“It’s hipster.”

“It’s hobo.”