'Murrica!

Y'all have got to go read this piece because it's great.

"I’m currently sitting in a Target Starbucks so there won’t be audio for this essay. I suppose one could call this Starbucks a coffee shop but it’s probably more accurate to call it a coffee shop auxiliary. I like this auxiliary because it’s highly unlikely that any other writers will be here. There’s nothing literary about this place and I think that makes it a more conducive environment for creating literature.

So, just now, as I sipped my coffee and read a book, I watched two Target employees—brown-skinned men in the famous red polo shirts—greet one another.

“Hey,” said the big man. “I didn’t know you were working today.”

“Yeah,” said the smaller guy. “Tim called in sick. And I need the extra cash.”

“You got summer plans?”

“Yeah, I’m going to Egypt.”

“Egypt,” the big man said. “Dude, that’s so cool. Why Egypt?”

“I’m Egyptian,” said the smaller guy.

“What?” the shocked big man said. “I thought you were Mexican like me.”

“No,” the smaller guy said. “I was born in Egypt. Came here for college. I’m an American citizen now.”

“Dude, how long we been working together?”

“About six months.”

“Dude, this whole time I thought you were Mexican. I mean, you have an accent.”

“Yeah, Egyptian accent.”"

Go, now. RTWT.

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