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Another guy gave a drink today; this makes number three, I believe. I sat down at a cafeteria table in front of a stranger whom he knew. His face was familiar, as he frequented the testing center for ESL tests, and his greeting was warm. I wouldn't be able to tell you his name. He is Indian, with the old "Marhaba Tan" as a greeting that that dreaded substitute teacher taught us times repeated.
He gave the stranger across from me a choice of three drinks he held in his hand. She took the Dasani water bottle, unopened. He then offered them to me, silently, and I chose out of two Cranberry blends he held. He grinned and bobbed, ever the doting Indian boy with a thin face and dark features. He sat with us for awhile, this boy, the stranger and I, and we chatted of typical college drivel: Majors, schools, connections. He left, sharing the pronunciation of his foreign greetings with the stranger. She thanked him again and again for the water. I wanted to tell her that I'm used to it by now.
He gave the stranger across from me a choice of three drinks he held in his hand. She took the Dasani water bottle, unopened. He then offered them to me, silently, and I chose out of two Cranberry blends he held. He grinned and bobbed, ever the doting Indian boy with a thin face and dark features. He sat with us for awhile, this boy, the stranger and I, and we chatted of typical college drivel: Majors, schools, connections. He left, sharing the pronunciation of his foreign greetings with the stranger. She thanked him again and again for the water. I wanted to tell her that I'm used to it by now.