And a good day to you, too, sir

On Friday, as I was leaving work, a pickup truck towing a trailer was coming down the street between my building and the parking lot. Seeing as how that street is a really steep hill, I figured I would just wait until it went by before crossing the street. But the truck came to a stop in front of me and an old-ish man with hardly any teeth rolled down the window and said, “Schmu too baaa schmur schmeldt mumble mumble zees mumble,” and then chuckled. I could not understand him at all, but I tried to just smile and nod in the hopes that he would drive on by, because he was creepy. Evidently, he could tell that I didn’t understand, because he said it again. “Schmu too baa Roosevelt mumble mumble Nazis mumble mumble, heh heh heh.” Still no good, but I was a smidge more anxious for him to drive away. On his third try I got it. “It’s too bad that Roosevelt didn’t save any of the Nazis’ bodies; you could do experiments on them and figure out what was going through their heads. Heh heh heh.”

I just smiled and nodded, and he drove away.