Last minute cancellations at first gave me a free day today. That is, until I realized everything was rescheduled for tomorrow. Which of course means that today became my Sunday. Which meant the clothes had to be washed, the groceries shopped for, and the dry cleaning picked up. My dry cleaner is, as often in the tri-state reigon, Korean. For normal Korean-Americans, this would be a good thing. We would chat in Korean a little, perhaps discuss where our families were from and what we do, talk about the weather, and I'd get a little discount to boot. For me, the twinkie that I am, this means nothing more then some awkward silence, and being charged full price. I don't even think they think I am Korean. Today, I got a double dose. First, when I dropped off some clothes and picked up the stuff I left last week. Secondly when I went grocery shopping, and bumped into the owner again at the Dunkin Doughnuts. Having used up my entire monthly stock of conversation with him already ("Um, hey. How are you doing?"), I said hello and bolted for the door. Maybe I should have said something more, as he was the one who recognized me.