In America, there is a secret password. I have cracked it. When two men pass each other, one will say: “Sup.” This is not a question. It requires no answer. The correct response to “Sup” is to say “Sup” back. Two men. One word. Said twice. Nothing is exchanged. Both are satisfied. I have seen it escalate. “You good?” “Yeah, you good?” “Yeah.” Three “goods.” Nobody asked anything. Nobody answered anything. A complete conversation made entirely of reassurance about a problem that does not exist. I tried to use it. A man said “You good?” and I, panicking, said: “Good. Are you good? I am also good. We are, I believe, both good.” He stopped walking. I had used four goods. The maximum is two. By saying it correctly but too much, I had revealed I was a foreigner — like a spy who speaks the language flawlessly but bows when answering the telephone. He looked at me for a long moment and said: “…You good, man?” And now there was REAL concern in it. The password had become a real question. I had broken the system from the inside. I have studied for months. I am now fluent. “Sup.” (do not stop walking) “You good?” “Yeah.” (do not stop walking) Yesterday a man nodded at me from across the street and said nothing at all. I nodded back, also saying nothing. We had a full conversation. It went perfectly. I have never said a single word to my closest American friend. We are very close.