Drive through Los Angeles and you may spot me. I’m the guy running the streets of Los Feliz with my bare feet. People point fingers. Dogs turn mid-pee to stare. I get mocked in Spanish by the guys standing along the street in front of Home Depot. “Mira, a ese wey no le alcanzo para zapatos?”
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Be forewarned. This is a story about people talking. There’s little action. No plot. Not much character development. Also, the details are how I remember them, not how they truly happened.
I was teaching a client in the field recently who had just returned to the United States from Afghanistan.
“Not much chance to work on my conversation skills out there,” he told me. “I spent my time on a hill with my squad buddies searching for bad guys through binoculars.”
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