While I was waiting in line with a friend on Tuesday, a man with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and rotted teeth started chatting with me.
Our conversation went something like this:
"So where are you from? Italy?"
"No, I'm American."
"Oh! American! You dress like a Somali. Are you married?"
"No."
"Will you marry me? I'm chocolate. I have the best skin in the land."
