Tuesday, July 25, 2006
I thought it was a gun...
There's a sandwich shop not far from work, and I sometimes pop there to get some lunch. Generally, the place is empty, save for the Chinese family who run it, and possibly a depressed looking customer occasionally.
I wander in, and there's a rather large guy at the counter, unwrapping this very long, solid object, taking extreme care over it, while the shop owner and his wife stared with amazement.
Clearly it was a shot-gun, and I had walked in on some dodgy deal, or a very polite armed robbery. So when the guy turned round to face me, with this object in hand, it could have been the end of my time on the planet.
Except that it wasn't a gun. It was actually a native American flute, which the man proceeded to play, to the delight of the Chinese staff who applauded greatly. I joined in with the applause. And I didn't get shot.
He then proceeded to tell us what it was made of (kimber wood), how many he owns (30), and where he got it from (LA). During this time, my sandwich had been made, I'd paid for it, and I left the store.
I've no idea if he actually bought anything, or why he was there at all. Just another day in Texas.
I wander in, and there's a rather large guy at the counter, unwrapping this very long, solid object, taking extreme care over it, while the shop owner and his wife stared with amazement.
Clearly it was a shot-gun, and I had walked in on some dodgy deal, or a very polite armed robbery. So when the guy turned round to face me, with this object in hand, it could have been the end of my time on the planet.
Except that it wasn't a gun. It was actually a native American flute, which the man proceeded to play, to the delight of the Chinese staff who applauded greatly. I joined in with the applause. And I didn't get shot.
He then proceeded to tell us what it was made of (kimber wood), how many he owns (30), and where he got it from (LA). During this time, my sandwich had been made, I'd paid for it, and I left the store.
I've no idea if he actually bought anything, or why he was there at all. Just another day in Texas.
