Walking Young Dog in our area, I got flashed by a vehicle coming up behind. Being the courteous resident that I am, I pulled aside to let him past (Kerem Hataymanim doesn’t really have pavements) but as he came alongside, he rolled down the window of his white van and leaned out, his gigantic middle age belly flopping over the door.
Him: “Brother. Achi. Listen to me. You want another dog?”
Him: “You want another dog?”
Me: “No thanks. One is enough.”
Him: “No achi. You are not understanding. Not as well. Instead. Bimcom. I take this and give you other one. You want?”
Sometimes a conversation just has to end. And sometimes you have to run somewhere with a locking door. Quickly.