Today I found myself wrapped up in an accidental enterprise. I was minding my own (and everyone else's) business walking the block or so back from the bank to my office. Crossing the street, I spied a decent sized group of middle aged tourist types. My recourse seemed simple - I'd swath right through the centre of them and continue on my way.
As I started through, they somehow closed in around me and boom - I'm on a guided walking tour led by someone clucking in umlauts and hurdy gurdy wordiness. Dutch I figured.
It took a bit of jostling but I freed myself as quickly as possible and carried on my way. For a moment, and my trouble, I considered letting them in on this great place I know for coffee but my chewy Canadian centre wouldn't allow it - we need the tourist dollars.
You're welcome Canada! My country 'tis of thee. Wait, wrong country. Never mind.
Reader's Diary #1985- Luke W. Molver: Shaka Rising
14 hours ago