Was walking yesterday morning to the post office. Passed the place where all the mail trucks are parked, and saw a group of mailmen just standing around talking. I am in deep reverie when one of the men disengages from his little group and stands in front of me.
MAILMAN: It's the hot latin blood in you, isn't it?
I am startled out of my walking/doze and look at this man carefully. He is redheaded, beefy, flushed. I decide that just for once in my life, I am not going to get involved in crazy conversations. The other men are laughing and grunting. I feel as if I should point to myself and say something like, "Me, Jane." But I move around Mr. Beef and keep walking.
"HEY!" I hear as I reach for the post office door. "AIN'T YOU GONNA ANSWER?"
ALICE: Uh. It's the 0.15 blood alcohol level in you, isn't it?"
I leave them snickering and grunting. And probably pounding their chests. And checking each other for parasites.
Love in the jungle. How did Dian Fossey do it...
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