Encounter with elderly mzungu and resolve to undergo a boob job

 Encounter with elderly mzungu and resolve to undergo a boob job

I am at a roadside kiosk looking at some goods, pretending I have money. A foreigner in just a wet, light cotton vest and wet underwear comes by, a limp in his gait. He is an old man carrying a backpack. He greets the kiosk man and I with a nod, and asks, “Ghjjtyip hgkx ghpouf njkl ghjy?”

I look at him, then tilt my head slightly sideways and upwards so that I’m gazing at the clouds, then I fold my arms, furrow my brows and carefully place my index finger on my bottom lip so that I look thoughtful.