I requested a cup of peanut-butter and chocolate ice-cream from BaskinRobins, and my friend went to get it for me.
"It doesn't have peanuts on top," I said when it came back.
"No," said my friend, "They don't have peanuts any longer because 'people have allergies to peanuts'."
"Oh," I said, poking at the ice-cream with a plastic spoon, "isn't this peanut-butter and chocolate ice-cream?"
"Yes, it is," he said.
"Did you point that out to them?"
"No, by then we were already well into the does-not-compute part of the conversation."
I have yet to pluck up courage to ask how weird the first part of the conversation was.
It can be tough, as a Brit, attempting to buy common food items in Southern California. Fraught with dangers. Sometimes I think the life of a muskrat trapper in British Columbia must have been easier. At least it was more logical.
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There comes a time in a young man's life, when he must put aside the trappings of childhood and venture out, into the wide world, in search of beaver.
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