I live in fear of the kebab man who works the sidewalk in front of my hotel.
I bought a kebab from him a few minutes ago. In addition to the usual mutton skewer, he sold me…some sort of organ. I’m thinking it was a kidney.
Anyway, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that the bill was higher than I thought it should be. He asked for six. I tossed him a five and huffed off. He shouted after me.
I didn’t mean to stiff him. His hand motions confused me; I thought he was asking for five. And even though I suspect he was gouging me, the truth is that I don’t know what…that particular animal part is supposed to cost. I’ve never priced out liver-colored meat pucks.
The kebab man is waiting outside my hotel now, with his thousands of pointy skewers…
