You're mid-sentence explaining why you're quitting your job when they glance down at their phone. You pause. They nod—still looking. You continue. Their thumb scrolls. You raise your voice slightly, as if volume will compete with whatever notification just landed. By the time you reach the part about the new job offer, they've achieved a kind of meditative state, phone in lap, eyes unfocused, nodding at intervals like a dashboard bobblehead. You finish. They look up and say, "Sorry, what?" You realize you've just spent five minutes auditioning for an audience of one who was permanently in the bathroom.