[Note: This is a true story.]
I pulled into a little corner gas station on my way home from work one night. As I entered the store and handed the old man behind the counter my money, he looked as if we wanted to ask me a question.
“Can you speak two languages?” he asked as he poked the buttons on the register.
I blinked at him in surprise for a moment. “I’m learning Spanish,” I answered slowly.
“Oh, so you don’t speak another language?”
“No, why do you ask?”
He peered at me for a second. “Well, I, uh… so you’re not an immigrant?”
“No.”
--- You should have seen my Mom’s face when she came home from the Christmas party. The kitchen counter was completely cleared off, every...
This was one of those times where I read the post, sat there thinking WHAT?, read it again , and started laughing. That must have been such an odd encounter...
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