A Boulder-style battle of wits.

The other night, I had this cab driver, who I certainly know. I don’t see him often, but we know each other. I decided to stop at the drive through and pick up a burger. We arrive at the window. He says okay your turn. I say what I’d like. Order taker responds and I don’t hear. Say again please I ask. And I ask, what did she say? No answer from driver. I figure he can’t tell either. This happens for several go-rounds. Finally, the order appears, and of course it is wrong. Driver then ***does speak up to say no, that’s not correct, and then ***does repeat what I’d been saying. Once finished, we drive off and I ask what was it regarding why he didn’t say anything before? He said well, it’s just that I’m totally and completely vegetarian, and I refuse to basically aid and abbet in any form of interaction regarding ordering anything wild species. No, it doesn’t matter that he wasn’t ordering, but the thought made him cringe, shudder, fluster, and swoon, for all I knew. I said, gee, I really would have appreciated your help on that one, and since I couldn’t hear, and so on and so on. He said, okay, we’re cool. I didn’t think of that and let my politics get in the way, but I’ll know next time. Oh well. I guess that could have occurred anywhere, but, definitely quite the mindset here in the People’s Republic of Boulder!! (smile) I guess anything for a diversion to make a week eventful.

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Re: A Boulder-style battle of wits.

Posted by:
Paul Migliorelli

I promise, Larry, very soon. I look forward to hearing you read it. And yes, I probably should send that one in to R D. Reminds me of another story I sent in years ago, but it never got published. I was running to do an errand, going to the bank in the pouring rain. I waited patiently at the corner to get some assistance crossing the stree. A fella approached, and called out, “water in front of you. Water in front of you.” I said, “Oh thank you for letting me know about the big puddle. Could I get some help please? Are you crossing??” He turned to me with the utmost innocence and answered, casually, “Oh, no. I’m not crossing. I’m Pakistani. Have a good day.” And away he walked. (smile) That was a Flushing, New York story from the past.

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