Can you believe it? My fourth day here and I ran into an old friend! All the way over here in Vietnam! His name is San Miguel. We used to hang out a bit when I lived in Spanish Harlem, and suddenly right in the middle of the market…there he was! Well hello, Delicious. We meet again.
But truth is I did not move to Asia to drink San Miguel. Or to eat KFC. Or pizza – why does every person here ask if I like pizza? Just because I’m American does not mean I love pizza. Ok, fine, I do love pizza (damn you, Accurate Stereotype!), but that’s beside the point. The question is: why did I move to Vietnam?
Because I’m a big, fat dummy.