Reminds me of a story a friend told me when I was traveling through South America.

My friend was walking home late at night and a guy from another country (forgot which, but it was obvious from his accent) asked him for money. This exchange of course happened in Spanish:

“I have an iron” “what does iron means in your country?” “by iron I mean knife” and pulls out a knife “oh, because here iron means this” and pulls out a gun.

Then the robber just ran away.

At a bus stop, I was nearly beaten for wearing the wrong color shirt. This fella was told to hit someone wearing red and, in an attempt at easing their conscience, kept trying to find a reason to dislike me. Meanwhile, I’m just confused and apparently befriending him over our shared hatred of Russians and security guards and a mutual love of Islam. Unlike the greentext, my guy had the courtesy to at least apologize and explain the situation. Feels like a fever dream and I do not expect a single human being to ever believe me. There is no punchline, just my continued confusion. I still do not know how to feel about this.

“from a friend”

“I was getting robbed”