The nice man

The story never ends. I was shopping and shopping and shopping — in other words, just getting lost. People told me to go to 14th Street and F. But did I know where F or G was? When you ask people, usually they give wrong information!

Finally I got back to the hotel and was about to enter the elevator when I saw the same tall and stout gentleman with glasses. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

He looked at me and said, “So, you are a nice man and I am not a nice man!” What could I do? I just smiled at him.

— 18 July 1987