Randomness

There's a couple sitting across from me at the coffee house. Boyfriend/girlfriend, husband/wife, possibly father/daughter - their ages are indistinct enough that it's hard to tell. She's reading a magazine, though I can't read the title (I really need to get a new prescription) while he sits, hands in lap, looking at nothing in particular.

Simon and Garfunkel, on their album "Parsely, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme," sang a song called "The Dangling Conversation." As I look at these two, I can't help but hear:

And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we mark our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost.

What's their story? Why are they here tonight? Why aren't they speaking? Are they angry? Sad? Bored?

Which is worse?