Ripe and swelled.

I saw someone reading a book in the steam room today, and asked her if she was concerned with the binding. Not at all; it was a favorite book she'd read many times and didn't worry about too much since it was already so worn. I asked her what it was; she said it was Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

At which point the two other women in the room began talking to us - their favorites, our thoughts on the new book, opinions about live theater and travel, a digression to the height requirements of flight attendants before we all parted ways.

It's the flip side of there being no small talk in New York City. You go in right for the big stuff, or you don't go in at all.