Uncommon Grounds, 10 a.m., Saturday

Stocky man, white, longish, unruly, curly hair. Black, button-down short-sleeve shirt. Turned in his chair so his back is facing the wall, his harms spread out and rotaing his hands on his wrists as he speaks, to a man crowded in next to him: Then you spread out to the edges of the universe and then you feel the energy...

Washington Park Pond, southwestern shore, 4 p.m., July 10

A pretty young woman with brown hair in a two-tone, orange, strapless sundress, squatting, cell phone in ear: Adam I can't believe I am hearing this. Are you kidding me? Adam. Adam! You have a child, Adam. You don't want to take care of him, is that it? You don't have to do a thing. Your sister is going to bring him to Clifton Park. It's your child. This isn't about you anymore. I can't believe I am hearing this. I can't fucking believe I am hearing this. You're a piece of shit, Adam, and I'm done with you.

Graney's Bar and Grill, Albany, 2 a.m. Thursday

"Allison," 20-something, to another 20-something female: Hi, I'm Allison!

Other woman: Hey. Hey! I'm drunk.

Allison: Wanna hug? Me too. Yeah.

Other woman: Let's hug with our boobies! (they embrace)

Driveway, last week

Me, to my neighbor, Jose: Hey, make sure you keep your car door locked. Someone took my GPS last night.

Jose: Aw, really? I'm sorry to hear it.

Me: Thanks

....

Jose: I've got one of those but I don't use it. At first it was cute, hearing the voice telling you where to go, but then it got annoying. I only go to places where I know where I'm going! I don't use it anymore.

Me: I used mine a lot. I have a bad sense of direction.

Jose: Mine's a good one. Worth 300 bucks. It's a Mag-Ah-Lan?

Me: A what?

Jose: A MAG-uh-LAN.

Me: Oh. I hear those are pretty good.

Jose: What kind was yours?

Me: A Garmin.

...

Me: The cop said whoever took it probably takes those all the time, and sold it to a neighbor or a pawn shop.

Jose: A pawn shop, no kidding? Hey, that's where I got mine.