Random Encounters

I'm having communion with Desmond Tutu Friday morning. Eat your hearts out, suckers. I'm secretly hoping for a better picture with him than I got last time, because as you can see, I had kind of Mufasa hair in that picture.

Also, every photo I take has that glare off my Tyra forehead, I can't do anything about that. I can't be cute at 7 in the morning, it's just asking too much. I do wish I knew what happened to that fleece I was wearing, it's one of my favorites.

Also, at the laundromat today a couple of old men actually just stopped and watched while I was sorting my delicates. Apparently no one told them the rule about how in public places like that we all keep to ourselves and, if we must look, we do it surreptitiously. It was creepy. Yes, dude, it's red lace underwear. Keep moving.

And I ran into some of my people today. I was going to get lunch, and two 40-something men approached me. In an accent you could cut with a butter knife, one of them says, "Excuuuse me, maaaa'aaam, buuut will thiiis strate take us to Laaawwng Strate?" I immediately recognized him as my people and made a quick guess: Mississippi or Alabama. "Where y'all from?" I asked. "The U.S.," he responded. Yeah I get that. "Where in the U.S.?" I clarified. Sure enough, folks, we have a winner: Mississippi! "I'm from Texas!" I exclaimed and we immediately started to taaawwk sloooowweerr and with bigger hand gestures, and use phrases like "like to had" and "fixin to" while lamenting Cape Town's lack of barbeque or Mexican food. (I did tell him where he could find Dr. Pepper, for which he was appropriately grateful.) The second guy piped in, "I'm from Colorado." Dude, who cares? Mississippi is Faulkner, Elvis, civil rights workers, and brilliant writers who drink themselves to madness. Colorado is...skiing. And Focusing on the Family. No one's impressed.

I even walked them part of the way to Long Street, since they were nowhere near it. I kind of wanted to ask the Mississippi guy, who was *definitely* Old School Mississippi, not part of the New South AT ALL, if he was freaked out by all the Coloured people, since at home they would just be black. (He might identify some as "high yella" or "redbone," but beyond that, probably not making a lot of distinctions.) But I'm a nice Southern girl so I figured it was best to stick to safer topics. He was already a stranger in a strange land.

If Desmond and I take a better photograph tomorrow, I'll be sure to post it.