The turbaned, rugged Pashtun traveler boarded the bus I was on via a ladder positioned near the rear door. He came to the front where I sat and slammed me with his right hip and knocked me from my seat. I hit the deck, dazed and confused. Paying no respect to his size, I did much the same to the traveler with my left hip! My adversary turned to me and with a creaking guttural sound coming from the depth of his jaw he drew his index finger across his throat and turned to face the road to come.
“What have I done?” I was in fact chilled to the bone with --- fear? Yep. I quickly calculated that this man could – and would – kill me for assaulting his pride, manhood, place in society – I was a skinny hippie kid far from any town, road or source of safe haven. In short, I was toast. I sat my ground, scared, but trying to enjoy the scenery. Time and miles passed. As suddenly as the bus had stopped to welcome this man, aboard, it stopped and this force of nature disembarked, and shuffled off westward into the desert.
Jess and Chris took a liking to local Twin Cities java brewer Dunn Bros. Coffee when they came to visit Poppina and me a couple of weeks back. Indeed, for my d'day the Hoytdulases gifted me with a 1/2 gallon "growler" of Black Infinity cold-press. And is it ever tasty!
