First one takes place while I’m violating my cholesterol probation at the lunch counter of Hunter House, a venerable, must-get-acquainted-with, landmark burger stand near my new home.
Woman just off my shoulder, after struggling to order: “I am sorry. I do not speak this language well.”Second one is between me and a neighbor with daughters on the swim team that practices at the city pool where I’ve been wondering for about eight weeks now why my splits are a tick slower than I think they ought to be.
Late teen, early-20s guy working the grill: “What language do you speak?”
Woman: “Russian.”
Grill guy: “So do I.” And a short unintelligible-to-me transaction later, one more happy customer has her burgers.
Me: “Is that pool 25 yards or 25 meters?”Okay, that second one neither sounds interesting nor makes me look especially bright, but I very much liked the information it yielded.
Neighbor: “Meters.”
The first one just made me happy once I could believe it was actually taking place.
Life is good, and once in a while the pleasures really are that simple.
5 comments:
It's fun living in the big city.
funny how 2.3 yards can make you think that doing a duathlon would be a better plan.
Ah, the joy of realizing what you thought were slow splits were indeed fast splits. Congratulations!
Train in a meter pool... race in a yard pool. It's like swinging two bats in the on deck circle.
I didn't know you moved out of Lansing :) -- good thing I started reading your blog!
I just moved myself, but to downtown Lansing. I like being able to walk to work and the City Market.
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