We all know it’s a small world. The song says so.
But sometimes the universe puts a big ol’ exclamation point on it.
I flew home to New York City late Saturday after a trip to Chicago and got in the cab, prepared to doze during the drive home.
My cabbie had a different idea.
You see, he was a talker. He asked about my trip, what I did for a living, where my hometown was. Since I’m a talker, I reluctantly abandoned the nap and chatted with him instead.
(He had a French accent, so it wasn’t a hardship.)
Turns out my NYC cab driver, who hails from a French colony in Africa, attended Southern Illinois University and had a roommate from Paducah, Kentucky — a stone’s throw from my own hometown.
Coincidence? Sure…but what a fun one!
Soupy
Ready for a piping hot bowl of peanut butter soup?
No need to adjust your monocle, Mr. Peanut. I said soup.
My taxi driver in Fort Worth is a big fan. I had never heard of it. But he hails from Ghana, where peanut butter soup is a staple, and I grew up in Kentucky, where chicken noodle is king.
The concoction is surprising un-exotic — just a mixture of veggies, chicken broth and the all-important scoop of peanut butter.
Add some jelly, and it would be more American. And less healthy.
Which might be the same thing.
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Posted in Commentary, Humor, Life
Tagged Africa, business travel, Chicken noodle soup, cooking, food, Foods, Humor, Kentucky, life, Mr. Peanut, Peanut butter, peanut butter soup, taxi driver, Travel