It Is Only a Matter of Time When The Rain Will Come

I sit here after just embarking for the ride home on the per diem route. After the usual mix of anticommuters taking advantage of the free ride zone and the customary regulars hop up a pair of "unusuals" take seats a few rows up from myself. I could tell because they spoke incessantly in low undertones. They consisted of a plump woman with '20s style cropped highlighted hair in dark horned rimmed glasses and a taller man with lamb chop sideburns of dark brown wearing a "newsboy" cap. They pass my seat to my left. The woman must be in her late thirties, a black and white tweed long coat covers her porcine frame. The look on her face is grim and I can hear her take the row directly behind me with a rocketing plummet. The man possesses zero expression and walks with an easy stride of someone whose age is hard to pinpoint. He has a tan canvass satchel strapped across one shoulder that he swings forward before taking the aisle seat.
I hear the woman speak first: "Why doesn't he just save himself the discomfort and pick the side-facing row?"
"Maybe he likes his knees folded like an accordion?" came his reply.
"I'm being serious."
"Who cares. People do what they do."
"Yeah but it just all seems so insane."
"And pointing out the obvious accomplishes-?"
There was silence here, which allows me to catch up on writing this dialog. Luckily I am able to follow, for their voices are held low making them speak slowly.
"Why are you always like this?" she continues.
"Like what?"
"Can't you just go along with it? You always must fight or say the opposite thing."
"What would be the fun in that?" he says with a laugh.
"I'm just trying to relieve a little tension by talking about anything. It helps-"
"The only thing it helps is your self-rationalization of superiority over the common element."
"Not that you're any different."
"As it has started, so this conversation remains meaningless."
"You never admit to anything."
"Why continue to follow a pointless thread? It'll always end frayed and limp without any usefulness," again I am able to catch up since she pauses and he waits for her to respond.
I cannot imagine that it would end here...
"Really, you never speak plain. Can't you relieve yourself of speaking in riddles. So pretentious."
"Jeez."
"What?"
"I said, 'JEEZ'!"
"Nothing else to say?"
"Anything I say shall be picked apart into a zillion pieces like a toddler shredding up a newspaper." [I think this is what he said, although I may have had to paraphrase.]
"Yeah. You always did try to take the easy way out of things. You'd always rather hide behind your large words and self-assured existence."
"Find my way out of what exactly? So far there has been no purpose to anything that has been said. I mean if I were to write down this entire dialog people would read it and become pissed off at me for actually taking the time to waste their time."
"Go ahead. Hide what you really feel. It makes no difference to me."
"Obviously."
"Obviously?"
"Yes."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning out of your own self-proclaimed apathy you ironically continue to speak."
"You're such a jerk, you know that?"
"If it makes you feel better, by all means be my guest to call me names. After all, you are an expert tongue lasher."
"How dare you."
"Please, spare me your sanctimonious outrage. You always have something to say, something to spurn, something to scourge for no other reason because you can. You can't ever just shut up. You always must rally your troops for the sole purpose of boosting your self-deflated ego. Well bravo to you. Let your pride surge through you."

Ok, not listening anymore. Besides, my writing hand really is starting to cramp up.