One night, when David had just moved to California, we went out for hamburgers, and he became seriously and strangely flustered by the act of ordering.

I didn’t know what to make of it.

The cashier seemed annoyed.

Then her look softened to confusion, and then, I think, real concern as he waved his hands in front of his face and finally said, “Forgive me, I’m new.”

I thought it was a funny and endearing thing to say.

You’re new.

To fast food? To commerce generally?

And yet, it really does help explain things.

Forgive us.

Here we are, and we are new.

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