Oh great. An idiot. How useful.
"They're like raisins." She explains in the same tone one might tell a child that they're an utter disappointment.
Just what language was this person speaking? She opted not to question nor correct the word 'spinch,' lest the outcome of that exchange raise her blood pressure. She found it odd enough that she could understand this obviously foreign individual.
She takes the bottle of dressing and looks it over. Not her preferred dressing, of course, but she sets it by her bowl nonetheless in case nothing better comes along.
"That much I suppose is true. Now, am I to assume you also have no memory of arriving here, and that you are not from Japan?"
