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Everything’s fine, everything’s cool and I look at her and I ask: did you get it? We’re all suave, cool, but I’m more I guess you’d say debonair, like I’m a knight or something only now, set in today, and I’m asking her: did you get it, did you bring it with you?

There’s this pitiful, like tragic expression on her face

Everything’s fine, everything’s cool, and I look at her and I ask: did you get it? Everything’s cool, we’re all suave and debonair, not a glint of perspiration on our foreheads, not a dab of sweat or doubt anywhere on us, and I ask her, grabbing her by the arm just below her shoulder, looking behind her sharply, “did you get it?” But everything’s fine, we don’t have anything to worry about, on the outside we’re totally together, it’s like we’re a juggernaut and no one can touch us. The nylon strap from my shoulder holster is kind of digging into my side, but it’s nothing much.
“Yes, I got it.”
Inwardly I’m shouting with pure and unadulterated joy, but outwardly, everything’s fine, everything’s cool, and I’m completely like calm and maybe blink one-third more often than when I’m not excited, but it’s not like she notices any of this.
I say, “then let’s go.”

But there’s still this expression on her face that I can’t really totally grasp. She’s cool but she’s pathetic, not like in a very sad heart-rending like way but more as if she’s projecting and everything else is pathetic but not her.

You got it, right?

“Yeah, I got it.”

A world of change can happen in fifteen minutes.

What happened?

“No problems. It’s all here.” The green-gray duffle bag’s slung over her left shoulder.