“Google or Apple?”  JJ was staring at his laptop screen.  “It’s like you have to bow at one altar or the other.”

“What are you talking about?”  Carl was on JJ’s couch in his nest of bedclothes, watching the pregame show.  Two months at JJ’s and counting.

“It used to be PC or Mac.  Now it’s like Apple vs. Android.”

“Dude, speak English.  What does all that mean?”

“I want to get a tablet.  So it’s iPads or ones that run Google Android.”

Carl looked at JJ.  “Know what I’m thinkin about?  Football.  Brady vs. Flacco.”  On tv, the pregame blather continued.  Ex-players in suits were arguing about quarterbacks wearing gloves when it’s cold.  Evidently, wearing gloves is a personal statement of values,  perhaps signaling to the opposition that you notice the cold and are therefore less of a man.  “These studio shows are the worst thing ever,” Carl said

“Why do you watch?”

“Because it’s on,” Carl reached for a cheese doodle.  “Just sit the hell down and watch.  It’s the NFL.  It’s everything.”

“Sit on your bed?  Or is that my couch?”  JJ came over and eyed the wadded up blankets.  “I’ll just squat over here.”

A commercial for Apple starring Venus and Serena Williams came on.  They played ping pong with an unseen and dreaming narrator.  Carl said, “That’s not the type of dream I would have with those two.  They are large and very athletic.”

But JJ was thinking that if the Williams sisters appeared in an Apple commercial then….what?

“Dude, here’s one for you while you’re making tough choices.  Ready?”  Carl paused.  “Clutch hall-of-famer Tom Brady, who you refer to as the pretty boy bitch quarterback of the New England Patriots.  Or… Ray Lewis, the born-again, face painting, and ranting pro wrestler parading as a hall-of-fame Ravens linebacker who, by the way, was involved in a double murder.  Choose!”

“Wow,” said JJ.  He feigned deep thought, stroking his chin and looking toward the ceiling.  “I’ll take the double murderer.”  

“That’s what I thought,” Carl said.  “Now you’re interested.”

JJ perched carefully at the edge Carl’s bed nest on the sofa and reached for the cheese doodles.