Mudminnow River and basically, i wanna know

just as he'd predicted, the conversation screeches to a halt before it ever gets off the ground, like an airplane on the runway bursting into flames. close your eyes and you would hear the whistle of his brain cells falling through open sky.
he sighs with all the world-weariness he can muster and brings his hand up to his face.
do you need anything? his eyes, resentful and tired, reflect the stranger's apathy. another sigh. apologies for stepping on your coattails, sir.
he's turning and about to walk away when it hits him— he's just called a girl a sir. he grits his teeth and rolls his eyes. granted, she was pretty boyish for a girl. what the hell. i'm running on an hour of sleep and i'm not even using. slowly, he turns back around again, looking a good deal more reserved. uh, sorry. about the uh, thing.
if the conversation before was a plane on fire, now it was a plane on fire carrying a shitton of explosives with a baby strapped to the cockpit. jesus.