Friday, August 7, 2009

Two true Cleveland stories: Coffee & extra chickens

Extra Chickens

He looked quite normal, almost ordinary. Kempt, clean white T-shirt, jeans, sneakers, and a backpack. We passed as I was returning from the AT&T Store. "Got any extra chickens?" The question was aimed somewhere between me and the next person on the street. "I'm really excited about this. I'll buy all your extra chickens. Got any extra chickens?" I smiled, nodded slightly, and walked on without answering. I have no extra chickens.


The young woman's voice is loud, loud with life and uncertainty, tinged with a touch of Jersey, as she pontificates on the culture of coffee. The guy working with her has a voice as blank as vanilla, sounding a little bit dumb and nasal, he tries to interject what knowledge and experience he has, talking fast, hoping that at least some of the words in the story tripping from his lips will stick and impress. She talks him down every time without knowing she is and still he listens and looks on worshipfully as she unspools her coffee knowledge in a single unbroken, unending string ignoring everyone but herself. He works, listening, brewing bold.

What “true” stories can you share? Share them in the comments!

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