The setting: Harvard square knitting store, nerds aplenty, myself included.
The characters: A huge, pizza-faced college boy, speaking in annoying, didactic tone to earnest-looking and much cooler female friend. While bandying about advanced knitting terms like "hank" and "swift" (in the noun form), he brags to salesgirl about the "fabulous Chilean wool" that's been sitting, unused, in his knitting bag for three months now, as if that's a sin on par with puppy killing.
"This stuff will treat'cha good," he says to his friend. "Sure, it can get kinda kinky, but if you're going to be a knitter, one thing you're going to have to get used to is ripping out your work and starting over. You'll be alright, I'll show you."