When the elevator door opened the man inside said, ``Going down, sir?'' The only answer I could give was, ``This is down.'' We were in the lobby. ``Ah, yes! Thank you very much, sir.'' Happy to help. Wasn't any trouble at all.
At lunch I was determined not to get fish and chips again. Given the chicken shortage that left me pork as the obvious choice at this stand. (Chicken's still served, but its cost is rising. Most stands haven't raised their prices, but hawkers are mom-and-pop outfits and I don't want to hurt their profit margin. Futile efforts at ``activist consumerism'' often frustrate my life.) I asked for the pork fillet. ``I'm sorry, we haven't any pork today.'' Oh. Fish and chips it is.
At the apartment security gate the guard said, ``Good morning,'' and I automatically answered ``Good morning'' back. Then -- I saw it in his face -- we both realized it was a little after 6 p.m., and the whole thing seemed awkward.
My brother's urged me to start a blog, as the strange and amusing things I find ought to be shared with everyone. He said he's too disorganized to write one himself, so he started one with a pal from work who's too disorganized to write one on his own as well.
There's just some days when you suspect you're in a sitcom.
Trivia: The word mongoose comes from the Indian Marathi language. Source: The English Language, C.L. Wrenn.
Currently Reading: Revolutions of 1848: A Social History, Priscilla Robertson.