This morning my outgoing, ruddy and bearded petrol attendant, we’ll call him Joey, was issuing forth his usual ‘guten tagen on your noggins’ to me and a fellow named Dave who was driving by in his van. He used ‘phuckin’ as the adjective this time. He waved bye to Dave, and turned to me, saying “sorry about the F-bomb, but Dave likes them.” Then the topic of conversation turned to an article I had read in which scientist Neil DeGrasse Tyson suggests that it is a high probability that the universe is a computer simulation created by a very advanced civilization. Joey readily embraced the topic, elucidating his amazement that the universe was actually real, that we are sending probes out a gazillion miles, and that it somehow all started from an infinitely infinitesimal density made of something that then exploded into everything. I told him that I had asked physicists in my acquaintance to get back to me when they ultimately decided whether light was a wave or a particle, and that it is beyond my comprehension that light’s nature depends on the subject viewing it. Fist bumps and we’re off. Twelve dollars for the gas – it’s a hybrid.
A few minutes later I held the elevator for a white-haired woman who told me she never rides the elevator without getting nervous because she was once stuck in one and had to climb out through the roof of the cab. I told her “well, that at least was a memorable day compared to many others.” She continued, ‘Well I keep dreaming about it – I’m floating and everything,” and then she stepped out. a little wobbly, onto the second floor.