(diaryland) October 29, 2009 - 2:21 p.m.

I was waiting at the train station. An underground one.

A man came up to me, and said in an American accent, "Hey, you got change for five dollars? I want to use a vending machine."

I said, "No, sorry. I seriously have nothing."

Then he sat down on the seat next to where I was standing, completely dejected, and said, "Damn. I really want some pretzels."

This made me laugh inside, in a nice kind of way. Nobody around here is all that interested in pretzels. They're more into vegemite and kangaroo meats. If there was one thing that an American would need out of a vending machine, it was my daydream that it would be pretzels. And so, it was. It somehow made my day cuter.