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"I wasn't paying attention, what were we talking about?" is a good way to in media res a conversation.

(Wednesday morning, INT: Overdrive Computers back room, LH, GU and EB are performing assorted computer-related tasks)

LH: I said "Look, buddy, when my tits become exactly the same size - and remain that size for twenty-eight consecutive days - I will happily submit to your micrometer and buy a hundred-dollar set of damn underwear. Until that occurs, I'm a C, this is a C, ring it the fuck up."
GU: Wow. I'm surprised you were still spending money there.
LH: Well, I already had my stuff at the register. I just don't think men should be working in the womenswear department, let alone offering to feel me up, I don't give a damn how swishy gay they act.
EB: Hold up, this was a dude?
LH: Yeah, what did you think I was talking about?
EB: I may have tuned out halfway through that story. I was working. Y'know, performing the actual function for which you pay me.
LH: What, and that function doesn't include listening to me when I talk?
EB: Hey, if you're saying I should have been clocking in every time you initiate a rant about a man doing something you believe is inappropriate, you're gonna owe me a couple of grand in back pay.