Thus, as I rode my mountain bike (aquired for $30 from the bicycle market near the Capitol guesthouse) down the riverside, I had to make a U turn to head back to the Internet cafe–
A squat, dirty blue truck is backing up into my lane–
I swerve to avoid it. The mound of spindly construction workers assembled on top of the truck idly observe my maneuver, lazily lounging in the sun like toads.
As I depart, I recognize the faint strains of the tinny backup signal the truck is using:
It’s “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”