Only in Ashland

This would never happen to me anywhere else but Ashland.

I went to the grocery store and as I was standing in the bulk spices aisle debating on whether to get crushed oregano or whole oregano a woman asked me, “Do you know where the nori is?”

Had I been living anywhere else, I would have no idea what she was talking about, but because I’ve become a crazy Ashlander, I knew she was looking for dried seaweed to put into her legumes to absorb the flatulence-inducing byproducts. “I don’t know where it is here, but I know the Co-Op has it.”

She thanked me and as she was walking away, she looked at the t-shirt I was wearing. It’s the red one I got at Boo Boo Records in SLO. She asked me, “Were you born in the year of the Rooster?”

“No,” I replied. “Rabbit.”

Then she really took me off guard and asked, “1951?”

Um, no, do I really look 59? I kindly informed her, “1963.”

I really need another vacation.

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