Line 22

This morning, as the bus rolled up to the bus stop, a sweet old lady with a walker looked at me and asked, “Ist das die zweiundzwanzig?” I panicked and said, “Si !”

Then two thoughts flashed immediately through my mind: one, that I replied “Yes” in Spanish, and two, that I really didn’t know what I had replied to.

A few seconds later the much slower brain caught up with the faster adrenaline-powered response, and I realized that I had actually understood the question and replied correctly (the bus was indeed 22), but my language was wrong.

So I vigorously nodded my head. The old lady smiled at me sweetly. We both got on the bus safely, and all was right with the world.