They’re so not cool that they’re cool… to the point of not being cool again… which makes them cool again… making people realize they’re not cool… which isn’t just cool… it’s tres cool… so very not cool.
So… Are you pro-Crocs or no-Crocs?
Last night, I went walking down by the river, looking for Pokémon (It’s exercise!). The sun had set a while before, so things were pretty dark except for the occasional working light in Keelboat Park.
From almost beyond the reach of the light, a man emerged from the parking lot. “Speak Spanish?”
I shook my head and said no.
Approaching me, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, opened an app and spoke into it. The autotranslation was a jumble and he quickly realized it so he tried again with something different.
The translation on the phone said, “look like a woman with a child”.
My first thought was, “Is he calling me fat?”
He was friendly so I dismissed that.
He then pantomimed pushing something at waist height.
Ah! Yes. I had seen a woman pushing a baby stroller down the walking path a few minutes earlier.
I nodded, copied his stroller-pushing movement and pointed the direction I saw her go.
“Five minutes, yes.” as I held up my hand and five fingers, because I’m a dork.
He said thanks and was walking back to his truck when he turned back around and asked, “Short?”
“Yes, short.” as I held up my hand to about my belly, because she was short and I’m a dork.
He said thanks again and headed off. Nice guy.
I’m glad that you don’t have to speak English to be in this country, because otherwise I would have even less of a story to tell.
Also, he made more sense than many of the English-speaking people I know.