What’s going on here? There is this girl talking; she is annoying and pretentious and androgynous and only a little alluring. Behind her is a girl in repose, ready, relaxed, accepting, loving: waiting for her man. The talking, the philosophizing, the complaints continue, the girl keeps blabbering, and maybe there is something to it. The words are just words, it seems; he says “Uh, yeah” probably not so much to what was said, but to the person saying it –– or, to nothing in particular.