This morning, I passed the tail end of a conversation.
"Well," an old man mumbled loudly, "I've got to get to that bus".
"Okay," a squat man in a blue shirt and pants replied. He was dressed in some kind of uniform.
His "okay" was directed toward me, I thought.
So I looked at him.
He was squinting and grinning a bit, and I understood what he was saying to me.
"This old guy is a freak, isn't he?"
I don't know this old guy, I thought.
I don't know anything about him.
