So there I am at the Harris Teeter Pharmacy in Chapel Hill in Meadowmont, where the wonderful old Yankees frequent, and the pharmacist tells me that once again they've screwed up my prescription, so could I come back in a few minutes? And I say, yeah, I'll go shop for some things for supper and I turn, and this terrific little old man says in a Queens accent, "That's a good idea honey . . ." I laugh and walk off, do my shopping - a bottle of chianti, a steak, and some broccolini, and I return and get in line behind a woman who seems to be having the same troubles as me with the pharmacist, and I hear someone clear their throat, and I turn, and it's him, the little old man, and he says, "WAT, I'm behind you again?!" And I say, "WAT, you had your chance." And then he holds up his grocery bag to show me, "I just bought plantains, I thought they were bananas! You ever had a plantain?"
"Yeah," I say.
"Are they any good? Do they taste like bananas?"
"Well, yeah," I say, "but greener, stronger, they're good if you fry them."
"Fry them? I gotta fry them?"
"Well, you can eat them raw I guess . . . "
The pharmacist reached over the counter and handed me my little paper
bag, and I turned and told the old man, "It's your turn."
"Well it's about time." he said, "Don't get in my way again!"