Last night was a typical night in the life of a 23-year-old guy with a lot on his mind. Well, I wouldn't say staying out until the wee hours of the night is typical, and I haven't done it for a long time now, but it should be standard operating procedure at least once a month. That's been a motto of mine for years. You have to go all out one night a month - it keeps you young!
I digress into my own philosophical ramblings. At the end of the night, as is usual for such nights, I found myself wanting to purchase vast quantities of food, junk food, at my local twenty-four hour supermarket. I walked down to the market, noticed that the cashier seats were empty, and slowly looked around before I entered. Hey, I didn't want anyone to think I was robbing the place.
One of the regular cashiers walked quickly around the corner, broom in hand, and asked me what I wanted. I told her I just needed a couple things. She said sure, just a couple things? You aren't going to get a bunch of things? So, it'll just take a minute? OK, fine, you can go in.
That's what I thought she said. That's not really what she said. Let's just say I felt like an idiot when she scolded me for being so rude as to walk in directly after she said "I'll be a couple minutes. OK?"
Twenty-four hour supermarket? More like twenty-three hours, fifty minutes. Not my fault you have to sweep the parking lot. Not my fault that Hebrew can be so fast that even if I understand what was said, I often switch the meaning of the sentences around.
You'd be surprised how important little words like "you," "I," and "them" are to languages.