The guy behind the counter looked like he was born somewhere else so I asked him where he was from. Here's how the conversation went.
Me: Where you from? (Curiosity in my voice, not animosity)
Him: India.
Me: What part?
Him: New Delhi.
Me: Oh, yeah? What happened to Old Delhi?
Him: It's still there.
Me: I'lll be damned. There really is an Old Delhi? Where is it?
Him: Right next to New Delhi. They don't call it Old Delhi, though. They just call it Delhi.
He went on to explain that New Delhi grew up next to Delhi and that New Delhi had overshadowed Delhi.
When someone is from a 'New' anywhere I generally ask him/her where the old one is, and with very few exceptions they don't even have a clue. This guy was pretty cool.
I think this guy is related to the other guy that used to work there. The other guy was a hoot, too. I once asked him why he didn't have a wooden Indian outside the door and he replied that all he can seem to find are wooden statues of guys with feather headresses. He said that his boss had hired a woodcarver to make one with a turban.
It is good to meet a fellow sick puppy.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
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