Conversations with strangers
At the Dutch bakery
Cashier: Four cinnamon rolls?
Me: That’s what they call me!
Cashier: They call me “Pastry.”
Me: Because you are so sweet?!
Cashier: And because I’m full of crap you don’t need!
Me: dies and is dead
On a bike ride
A man in a Rasta cap is standing a few feet out in the street with his arm around a girl who is maybe ten years old. They face my direction as I cycle towards them and the man raises his arm high in the air.
Me: …Are you waving to me?
Man: No! I’m praying with my daughter!
Me: Oh, my apologies sir!
Man: laughing No, no, you are good!