Rantglass - because that's how things are.


Wired down.

“Havinghereortakeaway?”

I blinked. “Yep, having here.”

“Spicyeerohoriginal?”

“Er… huh?”

“Spicyororiginal?” Her dazzling toothpaste-commercial of a smile seemed to have lost some of its lustre.

“Uhm, spicy.”

“Drinks?”

“What do you have?”

She gave me a look that told me she would be running out of patience. Soon. “Pepsimedaorenmedazipemedaensevenup.”

I gave up my guessing game and decided to go with the first intelligible choice, intending to make a quick getaway before being subjected to further humility at the hands of this particularly plucky rapid-fire speaker.

“Doyouwanteeyercheesywedgeseerwiththat?”

Sigh.

As I exited the fast food joint later, I saw a familiar face. My initial reaction was to say hi, but the thought of addressing a fellow blogger by their online handles put me off immediately (imagine “Fancy seeing you here, surferdude82!” or “Hi, pinkythreetoes!”). She saw me gawking at her and I promptly made my second quick getaway for the day.

You would not yell “Hey, Strizzt!” out in the streets either, or would you?

Details of this entry.Saturday, January 22, 2011, filed under Personal.
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