Got Milk?

I don’t understand it. I’m not skinny. Especially by Asian standards. Yet I am constantly being offered food. Usually, by people I know. But now, by strangers as well.

Today was a beautiful spring day. Warm, not hot. Gentle breeze. Fresh. After so-yae I decided to meander before going home. Just enjoy being outside. I walked along this street and that, then decided to go where all the women sell their produce along the street. Even if I don’t buy anything, I love walking along this street. There is only about 2 feet of actual sidewalk that is not covered by baskets of beans, stacks of cabbage, bowls of live fish. Most of the produce is a dull green, or white, or brown. But every now and then I’ll spy piles of intense red strawberries or incredibly bright orange tangerines. I was meadering, looking at the produce, trying to identify items, trying to avoid slipping in the fish water on the sidewalk, when I heard “Hell-llo.” I looked up, there was a man standing beside a small table. On the table were small cartons of milk, the kind I used to drink in elementary school. “Annong ha-sayo,” I replied. Russia? “Ani-o, Miguk.” Where? “San Francisco.” Ahhhhh. San Francisco. You drink milk? “Excuse me?” Milk – you like milk? “Ummmmm. I guess. (anticipating a hard sell) But I don’t drink very much.” My present to you. I will bring you milk everyday. “No, thank you. That’s very generous of you. But no.” Present. I bring to your house everyday. One carton of milk. My present to you. You no pay. You drink my milk. “Thank you (laughing), thank you, but no. Annong hee kay say-o!”