A fruit stall on 6th Ave, Manhattan. Fresh fruit never taste so good after a run. "Are you Japanese?" the vendor struck up a conversation. "Nope. Guess two more time," I said. "Chinese!" I shook my head. "Vietnamese!" I smiled, "Sorry, better luck next time," and walked away. "Wait!" he said, "I'll give you a banana if you tell me where you from." I laughed, said Indonesia and quickly grabbed my banana. I love NY.
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