But the real story is what happened afterward. Greg and I were hanging around outside the subway, and up comes Soren from Denmark, complimenting us on our incredible style (yes, I thought it odd too). Shortly thereafter, Hulio, the owner of the establishment next to which we were standing, came out, introduced himself, told us he could tell we were good men, and then briefly defended the actions of the Mexican drug cartel.
He went in, came back out to tell us about his life and his catholic girlfriend, and muse about the human condition. The most pointed moment was when he said, with his thick, Cuban, son of a gangster accent, I think we are all basically good, etc. I replied that I didn't think I was born good. He replied to my reply that, yes, I was born good. I contested saying, maybe you're right, but something bad happened, and indeed happens to us all, which comment he wholeheartedly agreed with. Good talk.
If you'd told me two years ago I'd find myself standing at the entrance to a subway with my new friend from Ohio, talking to the owner of hispanic club about original sin, I'd have said...well...I guess I'd have said that sounds like fun; indeed it was.
