We're Different

We're both sitting in his bed, on our laptops. I'm looking at shoes, bras and duffel bags. He's playing some shoot 'em up game.

"Travel?" I ask him.
"Yeah, I was hoping someday I could travel."
"With me?" I ask coyly.
"No. You wouldn't like the places I'd want to go."
"Well, how do you know that?"
"You wouldn't like going to the jungle, and not using bathrooms and sitting in the mud all day...Oh shit artillery."
Like I said, shoot 'em up.
He continues, "Sitting in the mud all day doing nothing."
"Why would you sit in the mud all day doing nothing?"
"Because that's what you do in the jungle."
"Oh."
He says, "I bet you'd like to do touristy things like go to Hawaii..."
"And Paris, and Italy" I finish his sentence.
"Yeah, that's not my bag."

This concerns me, a little. He won't think twice about it. I know that because he then says:

"Look at that, you couldn't have survived a missile hit. Look at that, I ditched out of my helicopter. You have a man who can kill virtual people, how about that?"
"You couldn't do that" He says arrogantly.
"I'll have you know I'm pretty good at James Bond"
"Well this isn't James Bond honey cakes."

"The S is about to hit the F here. Because I'm large and in charge."
Ugh, what a boy.